


Aboard the Ocean's Peak

by Crookykanks



Category: The Books of Ampany - Martha Mitchell
Genre: AU, Multi, Pirates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-08 00:12:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5475758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crookykanks/pseuds/Crookykanks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malik Zampieri has a mission to help rid his country's coast of pirates. If only he had a chance of success.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kidnapped

“Don’t worry, I’ll be on and back off before they have any idea what’s hit them.”

Those had been the last words Malik Zampieri had told his father before stepping aboard a sizable warship the day before. At the time, the warship was as beautiful a boat as Malik had ever seen — sails dyed the same color as a spring dawn atop a mast in brightly polished light wood, trimmed in gold paint that only showed the strain of sea and salt water where the touch-up artists couldn’t reach their brushes at port. He had smiled the whole day long, even as they tailed their target, to the great concern of several crewmen on board. Malik was just pleased that his sea legs were no where near as unsteady as his father had warned him they would be.

Malik had also used those same words he had given to the captain of said warship twenty minutes ago, before disembarking for his task on their target.

He had crossed through a canon hole to the side of the pirate ship, using to his advantage the rungs that were nailed into the ship’s side for easy access and cleaning. He made it past the initial fighting, over the strangely warm deck, and down into the galley without trouble. There, he set the carved rune that promised to track the ship whenever it entered Ampany’s ever-shrinking borders, and at least keep the old scourge off of their ports. Malik was in sight of the deck again before fate tossed his careless words back into his face.

Some thick wood hit Malik square in the face, and he fell back clutching his forehead. Before his vision cleared, he felt his hands wrenched behind his back and covered with some kind of fabric that was wrapped tightly around his fingers.

“Captain!” a young, probably male, voice shouted right by Malik’s ear. “He put something on the back bench. Couldn’t tell what. Where d’you want him?”

Malik’s eyes blinked back into focus in time to see a pair of legs stop just in front of him. This close, he could see the simple black shoes fastened under elaborate spats made to look like many-silver-buckled black leather boots that went almost up to the knees. The cotton pants above them were almost covered by a bright blue tunic and a clean white sash that defined a feminine waist.

“What’s your name, intruder?”

Malik did not answer.

“Captain asked you a question!” the boy who had caught him hissed.

“Never mind, Fritz. Get him tied to the mast for me. I’d like to take a look at him in the open. Then tell Juni to get the sails vented. We’re making a quick break. I’ll be at the back for this.”

Malik tried to look up, but found his head shoved forward by the boy, and was dragged away almost on his knees back onto the open deck. Fritz handed him over to two much larger men and a wiry woman who was significantly stronger than Malik would have guessed, along with the captain’s orders. They strapped Malik’s waist to the mast and tied his wrists behind the great wooden pole, keeping his hands fully encased in fabric as they did so. When they pronounced him secure, the woman said “Don’t try anything now,” and one of the men pulled a chain to his left. A platform rose up under Malik’s feet. He stumbled to stay atop it, knowing it was more comfortable beneath his shoes than between his legs. As he rose above the crowd on the deck, he looked for any signs of skirmish or aid still aboard. There were none. The pirates below were busy either dropping royal-painted planks over the side of their ship, or else gawking up at him. All at once, the ship lurched forward, and Malik felt a sudden wind whip back his hair and clothes. He choked on salty air as it rushed into his face, making his eyes stream.  
  


  
  
The Royal Warship Esplande was built to be quick and light. Her crew was well trained, and her captain a man who had seen more battles than he cared to admit. Hunting pirates who preferred the grander ships that sailed under green and lilac sails seemed a waste of Esplande’s abilities to him. But he had been ordered by the Commander of His Majesty the King’s Naval Forces (a very weary man who deserved an early retirement) to clear the waters. So Captain Brennan had the ship cleaned and re-painted, then turned her to the open seas once again. Commander Zampieri’s son had even come along, with some new-fashioned tracking device. All Captain Brennan and his crew had to do was keep the pirates still long enough to place the thing.

Captain Brennan realized a little too late that pirates did not play by the same rules as noblemen.

The sturdy little ship across the water pulled up it’s sails very suddenly, and began to turn away. On the stern stood a woman, short enough to have been a child, but that her boots were intricate and her tunic too formal. She hurled some small thing to the Esplande, where it clunked on the deck by Captain Brennan’s surprised feet. She then saluted him irreverently, and threw her hands towards the water.

It parted with her motions, and in glittering waves, rolled the two ships apart. For the first time in Brennan’s memory, his sea legs gave out and he had to clutch the guardrail for support. The woman opposite him had no such problem. She stood steady on her deck, waving her arms like she was in control of some immense oars that Brennan could not see. The pirate ship departed with a speed like Brennan had never seen, and before the Esplande, the lightest ship in His Majesty’s possession, had steadied, the pirates had all but vanished.

“Captain?”

“Yes, Daniella?” Brennan answered, his voice only a little steadier than his legs.

“Was Ambassador Zampieri supposed to stay with the pirates?”

Captain Brennan got a last, horrified look at the departing pirate ship and desperately wondered if anything could catch them up. Then it was gone into the mists of distant water in the early winter.

“We must hope so,” he replied.

 

  
Malik had long lost track how much time had passed when the pirate ship finally started to slow down. He wanted badly to rub his stinging face and eyes, and though he probably could have wrenched his hands free, his platform was still unstable and high enough to make wiggling around a dangerous endeavor. It was only once the sails around him had been lowered again that he was able to look around.

There was only water visible in near any direction he looked.

His stomach was already dropping when the platform under his feet lurched, too. Malik almost lost his footing, and gave an involuntary shout as he was lowered back to the deck. The pirates were all gathered in a half-circle below him. The woman nearest him, standing assuredly in the front and center of the group, had her hands on her hips and a bright smile thrown crookedly over her face. He recognized her bright blue tunic and white sash from before. She whistled appreciatively as he came closer.

“Hold him three feet up there, Wes,” she called. “Let me take a look at that ass.”

Malik’s face went hot as the platform stopped again, with her face very near the level of his crotch. She took her time circling him, never once trying to meet his eyes, while the other pirates jeered her on.

“Fine clothes, intruder,” she called from behind him. “Much finer than a crewman’s would be. I’m going to ask your name again.”

Malik said nothing.

“Are you a mute, then? A great pity. We could use someone born rich like you to sing for us in the evenings. Do all the city boys have as fine voices as they say?”

“You are not worthy of my name,” Malik said, trying to twist around to see her again, as she had not reappeared from behind him. His voice was choked and hoarse from the salt air. The woman pinched his ass hard, then stepped back around to his front.

“Then I’ll have to give you a name we’re both worthy of,” she retorted. “One more chance, city boy.”

Malik did his best to sneer at her, though his throat went tight at the sight of her wicked smile.

“Very well,” she said. “Lads and ladies, we’ll be having a guest aboard for a short while. Usual rules apply. If you’ll be needing his help in anything, he’ll answer to “Pretty Boy”. Wes, would you and Juni strip him down and show him the captain quarters? Those clothes will trade for a few good meals for us all. Keep his hands tied for me now. We don’t know what they teach them in the cities these days.”

The platform Malik was standing on dropped the last three feet to the deck sharply enough to wind him. His captor turned back to him and continued in a lower voice.

“We won’t hurt you, Pretty Boy, so keep that lovely smile of yours,” she said. “Call for me if you get cold. I am Captain Eleanor of the Randolph Rebels. Welcome to the Ocean’s Peak.”  
  


* * *

  
When the beleaguered Esplande returned to port in Kingston, there was a much larger greeting party than Captain Brennan had been expecting. At first, he had thought that some victory party was in order, or perhaps news of young Ambassador Zampieri’s final success in whatever mission he had been given.

This was not the case.

Weary, disgruntled Commander Nehemiah Zampieri’s first words were, “Where is my son?”

This alone would have been enough to make Brennan choke. But then he followed with, “Why did you set off our alarms?”

The wooden token was recovered and explained by the port guards. Nehemiah Zampieri had to hurry away.  
  


  
The small round window in the captain’s quarters told Malik when the sun set, and showed him a clear night bedecked with more stars than he had ever seen. He looked at them shivering in nothing but his underwear, wondering if anyone was going to bring him food. He would have liked the choice to at least refuse it on principle.  
His hands were still wrapped in what appeared to be a dishcloth, and a short length of chain bound his wrists to the bedpost. He had spent most of the past few hours curled up on that bed, trying to recover some part of his dignity. There was a desk with a lush chair that did not match at all and appeared quite old beside it. He couldn’t get close enough to see any of the half-finished missives on it, nor the incoming messages that zapped into place in a neat pile in a dip in the wood. Each came with a startling flash of color. Malik tried to remember every detail to report later. Whenever later happened to be. 

He was definitely shivering by the time he was joined in the room. Captain Eleanor came in carrying only one plate of food, steaming warm in the cool evening, and cloth draped over her arm. Her sand-colored hair was, if anything, wilder than it had been on the deck. It sparkled like the moonlight had filled it with stars. Malik blinked away as she shot her crooked grin to him, his arms shaking with cold and his groin suddenly too warm.

“I’ve brought bribery,” she said, setting the plate down at her desk. “Ready to talk?”

“I can think of nothing I would like to say to you, pirate.”

“That’s ‘Captain’, if you like having a tongue.”

Malik paused, waiting to see if she was serious or not. She took a bite of steaming potato and ignored him.

“Captain,” he corrected.

“Better,” Captain Eleanor said. “Once again, your name is?”

“I think you told them I would respond to Pretty Boy.”

“Your parent-given name will get you off my ship faster,” she replied. “Unless you think they won’t pay a ransom?”

Malik did not answer. He knew that his father would pay. What he didn’t know was where the money would come from, and who they would have to return it to.

“What’s your color?” she asked after another minute.

“My what?”

“Don’t play daft. It makes you duller,” Eleanor said. “I can get it from your fingers if you won’t say. There isn’t any point in hiding.”

“Color from my fingers?” Malik asked again. “Why would anyone have color in their fingers. You don’t honestly believe nobles have blue blood, do you?”

Captain Eleanor raised one eyebrow skeptically as she looked Malik over. Her eyes paused a little too long on the one part of him that was still covered, and the corner of her mouth twitched. Malik pulled his knees up.

“Have you heard of my ship before?” she continued instead.

“Quickest steals in the sea. The Ocean’s Peak was an intentional target. Our merchants can’t take much more. Our lands are shrinking every year.”

“Then perhaps what is left of Ampany should not be so quick to turn away those who could be her allies,” Eleanor sniffed.

“You would have us ally with pirates rather than our neighbor countries? That is the definition of madness.”

“When you next see whoever sent you on this doomed little tracking mission — oh yes, I recognize what you tried to do, and I removed the unwelcome addition to my galley. When you next see them, remind them that the Randolphs were once the most respected family in the country, and if they paid more attention to their land borders, they would not have such a scourge in the seas.”

“It’s a little late for preventative measures,” Malik said.

“It is never too late to prevent more cases like me.”

“Like… you’re Ampanian?” gasped Malik. “How dare you attack the ships of your king! How dare you turn against your home!”

“I am border-born, and that border has long since moved. Do not hold me loyal to a country that saw fit to abandon me,” Captain Eleanor spat. “Here. I have eaten already.”

She dropped the plate in front of him, but did not untie his hands so he could eat. Malik squirmed around, trying to use his feet to get the plate close enough so he could put his face against the food. Dignity be damned.

“If you will not allow me your ransom, then what good are you to me?” Eleanor continued, her tone even again.

“No good at all, so why don’t you drop me at the next port?” Malik muttered.

“If that is truly the case, I might as well just toss you over the side. It is what I have been taught that nobles will do when faced with an inconvenience.” Malik dropped to his knees on the ground to get his face as close as possible to the food. The angle was all but impossible. “But, I do not believe in needless waste,” Eleanor said, picking up a fork. She stabbed a chunk of potato and held it out for Malik. “When all someone needs is a little help, I like to make bargains instead.”

Malik’s stomach overrode his brain, and he realized only after he swallowed that he had probably agreed to some sort of illegal bargain. He chanced a glance up to his captor. She graced him with another wicked smile.

“Hungry, Pretty Boy?”

He took another bite from her fork, then another. He ate a hunk of warm bread directly from her hand, waiting for the guilt to overcome his hunger. The plate was clean before it happened.

“So, you have been safely housed and fed. What can you do for me?”

“I don’t know,” Malik said quietly, trying not to look at her. Fuck, he had been eating at the level of her lap.

“Have you no talents at all?” Eleanor laughed. “Can you cook? Are you good at climbing up and down the sides of ships? Do you know how to work a basic rigging cable? How are you at laundry? Surely you must do more at your home than sit around for other people’s viewing pleasure.”

“Oh!” Malik exhaled in relief while also flushing darker. “I thought… I am a suitable cook, and relatively strong.”

“So Rini and Wes tell me. Junior wouldn’t know. Never met a man who can match him for strength. Know your way around a ship?”

“Yesterday was the first I’d been on one,” Malik admitted.

Captain Eleanor swore.  Then she said, “Oh close your mouth, Pretty Boy. Don’t give me ideas.”

Malik snapped his jaw shut at once.

“I need to talk this over with the crew. I can see that you’re shivering, so I’ll help you get these pants on—”

“I’m not going to be any help without my hands!” Malik interrupted. 

“Do you imagine for one second that I’m going to trust you, Pretty Boy?”

“Well no, not, I suppose,” Malik stammered. “But where exactly do you expect me to go?”

“Poof?” Eleanor suggested with a wave. 

“You are the most superstitious seaman I’ve ever met.”

“You yourself admitted you’d never been on the water before yesterday. Don’t be so quick to judge,” Eleanor reprimanded. “I do not accuse you of the impossible. I know what I am capable of, and wish only to make sure that you are not capable of the same.”

“You are capable of…” he imitated her gesture, “poof?”

“Are Ampany’s nobles now so under Norstoan’s heel that they know nothing of magic?”  
Malik felt the color drain from his face, and the little warmth he had left leave his torso. He tried to stumble back from her but was caught by the chain and fell back on his ass.

“I have already given my word that you will not come to harm,” Eleanor reminded him.

“I am naked and chained!”

“Are you hurt?”

Malik frowned, trying to decide where to draw the line of harm in this instance.

“And you will not come to harm under my watch. If you expect me to trust your words, you must allow me to have the same expectations. Now, would you like some pants?”

“May I put them on myself?” Malik countered.

“That small?”

Under her grin, Malik felt the heat rush into him once more, though his legs and shoulders shook all the worse.

“It is not size that gives me shame,” he replied through gritted teeth.

“Don’t tell me you have a kink for being tied down. There’s too many ropes on my ship to be having with that.”

“Hardly,” Malik muttered. Eleanor’s grin widened, and Malik had a sudden image of her teeth on his neck.

“Sit very, very still, Pretty Boy, and let me put on precautions. Then you may dress yourself. Do we have a bargain?”

“Precautions?”

“Do we have a bargain?” she repeated. 

Malik had no choice in the matter, unless he wanted to freeze. Captain Eleanor dug in her pile of clothes and pulled out two long gloves that were a little tight on Malik’s fingers. She insisted that they would stretch. The hands of the gloves were very worn, and the fabric stretched up to Malik’s elbows, tight on his skin. Through little loops at the upper end, Eleanor wound a length of chain, thin but strong enough, which she clipped to a leather band that wound around his neck. This she clasped with something very hot that Malik couldn’t see.

“Are you branding me?”

“I have not, but can if you would like me to. You could be a true pirate, Pretty Boy.”

Malik said no more. When Eleanor was done, she stepped back to admire him again. He waved his arms for her, and reached around to his back. Malik was surprised to find that she had given him a full range of motion, but he could figure no way to remove the gloves she had chained to him. 

“The shirt will cover most of that contraption, but do feel free to leave it off. You are a sight and my eyes have been very sore of late.”

“May I get dressed now, Captain?” Malik grumbled.

Captain Eleanor tossed him the clothes.

“I’m going to leave you locked in a little longer, but I’ll be back within the hour. Maybe I can convince you to be the night’s entertainment yet.”

Malik threw on his clothes as soon as she was out the door. Still shivering on the bed, he wondered how he could masturbate with gloves on.  
  


* * *

  
There was a small crowd outside the captain’s door when Eleanor stepped out. She tried to quietly shoo them away.

“You’re asking me to believe that you didn’t ravish that?” Rini hissed.

“Not with you lot at the door!” Eleanor retorted, waving them all back to the galley. “I’ll be giving up my virginity when and only when I can do so in privacy. Which I’m clearly not going to get aboard here.”

“Is he as good looking without clothes as he is with them?”

“He’s young for you, Livia Thompson.”

“Not for you, Captain,” Fritz sniggered.

“Is the teasing out of all our systems now?” Eleanor waited a moment for the eight people around her to stop giggling. “He claims ability to cook. It might be the only thing he can do.”

“Nothing wrong with a little decoration,” whispered Rini to Livia at her side. Both women found themselves on the receiving end of a captain’s glare, which only made their laughter harder.

“I’ve got his hands bound, just in case he’s lying about not having magic,” Eleanor continued. “I still don’t have a ransom name, and if anyone gets any ideas, please bring them up at once. In the meanwhile, can we stop as early as Provincal? We’re going to need more food sooner rather than later. I have a feeling he eats a lot.”

“Laurent might be the best we can do,” answered Livia. “If Kitey and Brick both just hit Provincal they’ll be on high alert for more.”

“Or they could be feeling secure,” countered Fritz.

“If all we want is food, we could disguise the ship, come in as a merchant. It’s worked before.”

“We don’t have regular goods for that. It’s a mishmash of trash in here,” Livia pointed out.

“Any chance we can pull in a decent haul of fish between here and port?” Eleanor asked. 

“I’m not eating any more fish this week!” Wes whined. “I need some grains in my stomach.”

“And kings pay gold to put caviar on their toast,” Fritz sighed.

“We ain’t got no toast!” said Wes.

“Bread is on the shopping list, thank you, Wes,” Eleanor interrupted. “As is rice, and some sort of vegetable that isn’t mostly salt. I’m hoping we can trade fish for other goods. It might be all we get.”

“We’ll run the nets with the night crew,” Livia offered, hitting Wes in the arm to tell him she was including him in this proposition. “Let you know what we get in the morning.”

“Thank you. Fritz, would you look after the captive tomorrow? I think he’ll have the hardest time evading you.”

“He won’t go anywhere without me,” agreed Fritz. “I can keep my eye on that.”

“Watch his hands, lover boy, not his ass,” Rini chuckled.

“I happen to have a hard on for long fingers,” Fritz retorted. “Should be a very good day.”  
  


* * *

  
Malik spent the next two days hounded by the skinny boy who had caused all this mess in the first place. The gloves and chains, he learned, did not come off even when he slept. That first night, when he had been told his orders, Captain Eleanor had left him alone in her bed, with an ankle hooked to the bedpost so he couldn’t leave. She had spent that night in the barracks with her crew. Malik had slept in his new pants, which were worn and comfortable, if a little thin for the season. He slept poorly, thinking of his parents and home, wondering what Kingston would think when word got out how badly he had failed.

He had to be set free in the morning, and was greatly teased by the pirate crew when he arrived for breakfast with the equivalent of a collar on. Though the shirt did hide his leashed gloves well, the looks of everyone who could see the leather at his neck told him that they knew his secret. The men and women alike made sexual gestures and kissing faces his way, until Malik was sure his cheeks were pitch black with his shame. His watcher, Fritz, pulled Malik’s long braids tightly into a knot and tied them at the base of his neck, insisting that they would get in the way. Malik refused to admit that the boy was probably right. 

Everywhere on the ship, Malik could feel Eleanor’s eyes on him. He deserved that, he supposed, but it was unnerving to have her staring while he peeled the last potatoes (which were starting to sprout), while he scrubbed the tables clean (the only man or woman wearing a shirt while he did so), and while he pissed over the side of the ship. He did not let her watch him from the front there, though surprisingly she didn’t try. Eleanor seemed mostly to be ascertaining that he wasn’t going to jump over.

Where did she think he was going to go when land wasn’t in sight?

The second night, Malik spent in the barracks. He was once again tied to his bed, but with a much longer leash, and was given a special covered bucket in case he needed to relieve himself. The crew seemed to be running low on their desire to tease him by that point, particularly when it became clear that he wasn’t going to undress to sleep.

Being a pirate, Malik found on the second day, was significantly less fun than it sounded. He was starting to hate the vaguely nauseous feeling he had every time he took a step, and the smell of fish kept hitting him again at odd times, just when he thought he had become used to it. The tasks presented to him were monotonous, and no one else seemed to be doing anything more interesting. Even the captain could be seen climbing up the mast with Rini to fix the rigging on a sail that had started to sag, or scrubbing the tables with everyone else, a strip of cloth wound tight around her chest while her bright blue tunic lay in the pile with everyone else’s clothes. 

By the third night, Malik’s clothes had started to smell.

Fritz kept him in the kitchen for a long time the next day, where they prepped for something that looked like a feast. All morning long, the others arrived one by one with sacks of fresh potatoes, rice, dried beans, and other goods. Junior even brought down a crate of eggs that Malik was instructed to hard boil for their breakfasts, as long as the eggs would last. Malik persuaded them to let him keep a few dozen for fresh scrambles in the first couple days. He was only released when Eleanor gave Fritz the go-ahead. 

“Where did all that food come from?” he asked while she accompanied him up to deck to stretch his legs and take care of his bladder.

“Where all ships get their supplies, Pretty Boy,” Eleanor replied. “Port.”

“We docked?!” Malik cried. 

“We were docked all morning,” said Eleanor, full of so much calm it read as mischief. “But I can’t trust you yet. Don’t fret your head. You didn’t miss a welcoming party. We’ve long left Ampany’s waters.”

“Where exactly do you intend to let me off?” Malik asked.

“Wherever you will be the most useful to me,” Eleanor said. “You are not currently causing more hassle than you are helping, so for the moment it behooves me to keep you around. That is not an invitation for trouble, mind. Even an hour out, the swim back to shore wouldn’t be an easy one. An hour in my ship covers much more ground than your arms will. You’re no good to anyone drowned, and I’d have a revolt on my hands if I let you off the ship so easy.”

Malik could only pout. 

That evening, however, there was a small feast for a successful stop at port. Sitting as part of the large circle on deck, Malik learned that Rini and Livia could both play instruments, and Fritz had a high, pretty voice that led the dirtiest songs Malik had ever heard with a sort of sweetness that had him singing along, too. He was coaxed into teaching them a Midsummer dance (which it turned out several of the band knew already), and the captain laughed in a joyful bark as Malik was swung from crewman to crewman, a sort of handsome doll they all wanted to hold. 

He felt an unwelcome sadness when Eleanor herself didn’t join until the line dances.

It was followed by an even less welcome joy when two dances later they finally linked arms. Malik was very, very glad for the low light and loose pants.

The fourth day went much as the first and second had, with more potatoes to peel, rice to cook, and dishes to clean. Malik, along with Wes, Junior, and Rini, was lowered down to scrub the side of the ship as well. The others did both a faster and a better job than Malik, who was weighed down by wet cloth on his arms and muscles sore from more days of labor in a row than he had ever done before. They teased him rather than punishing him, however, and Malik ended up cleaning much less of the ship than they did. 

By the fifth day, Malik only very occasionally felt the sea under his feet or smelled the fish in the air. This was a very good thing, because it was on this day that he got his first true taste of being a pirate. He didn’t see the ship, being down in the galley cleaning pots with Junior at the time, but he overheard Fritz and Rini reporting back to Captain Eleanor.

“You’re absolutely certain,” she said.

“Three-C, I swear it. Saw a few of them myself. I’d forgotten what the crying was like.”

“How many would you guess?” Eleanor asked.

“A dozen, maybe?” replied Rini. “They can’t have much room for more. If we sneak over under darkness, we might be able to get them off with some of the grains, too, without having to engage.”

“Leave the grains if you can get a crate of the silver,” Eleanor replied. “We can’t cook much with grains on here. Silver we can disperse more widely.”

“We’re going to need more food if we are taking on a dozen more mouths,” Fritz said.

“They aren’t sick of fish yet,” Eleanor countered. “Get the kids, then the silver, then the grains. If you can clear out their whole lower deck, drinks are on me, but don’t risk your necks any more than you have to. You’re more important to me than all the silver in Norstoan.”

“Well shucks, Eleanor.”

“Hush, Rini. You know what I mean.”

Eleanor entered the kitchen soon after, and whispered something in Junior’s ear. He nodded his agreement, and she left again with nothing more than a crooked smile for Malik. 

That night, Malik was invited back to the captain’s quarters, where Eleanor made him another deal.

“Fresh clothes and a bit more freedom to go about the ship, for the privilege of staying here again for a night.”

“There’s some part of this you aren’t telling me,” Malik observed.

“There are lots of things I’m not telling you,” Eleanor admitted easily. “But I will say I’ll lock you in, but leave you unhitched from the bed. It’s as much for your comfort as anything.”

“How long have you been caring about my comfort?”

“I don’t have time to argue all night, fun though it is,” said Eleanor with a small frown. “I need an answer. Will you agree to a more comfortable bed and private quarters for the exchange of not getting in the way?”

Malik lost the staring contest, and had to agree. Even in fresh clothes, with piles of blankets, he felt cold the whole night. He kept waking up to the clunks and creaks of the ship, which sounded fuller than before, and was plagued the whole night by dreams that hadn’t been so vivid since puberty. Every time he woke, he could feel Eleanor like she had just left the bed, and he was searching for the warmth that stayed in her wake.   
  


* * *

  
The Norste merchant ship never saw how their goods were stolen out from their own underbelly. It wasn’t until the next day, when food was taken down to the captives, that anyone noticed anything was wrong. The cells were empty, and the crates were gone, as though they’d never been there. No scrapes lined the wood floors that hadn’t been there before, even the cell doors were still shut, with every iron cuff still in place on the wall, locked tight. 

Sixteen caster kids, three crates of silver, another five of grain, as well as ten barrels of beer, and a bucket of coal. All gone without a trace.

“Only way in and out is through that little porthole!” the poor guard cried. “Otherwise they’d have to go past me! I was here all night! Could hear em crying all night! Not a wink! No way crates went through that porthole. The kids maybe, but no one and nothing bigger than them.”  
  


* * *

  
The grains had been a good steal, as the Ocean’s Peak’s current supply would not have lasted another sixteen malnourished children’s bellies more than three days. Malik was once again locked below deck when they made the first stop two days later. Four children vanished after that. Another two went the next day, swapped onto another Randolph Rebel ship headed the other direction. This ship was larger, and headed by a tall, thin woman with hair like coils of steel. She had a sharp face and red clothes that had started rich and become torn.

“Hah! I know your face, kid!” Captain Kite Randolph shouted to Malik. “Get a good ransom on that one, Eleanor. He’s a Kingston boy. Some relative of the Commander. Send a note direct his way, and arrange a pick-up. Brick can get the gold and you can drop the boy wherever you please. He’s a pretty one, isn’t he?”

“Pretty useless,” Eleanor snapped back. “Got no note without a name, Kitey, as you know well. Get me one of them, and you can set any price on his head you like.”

“You’ll run by Pickett if you keep this course. Send another couple kids with her, and you can drop the rest in Tourenne. Think you can make it that far?”

“I’ll trade you a barrel of beer for one of rice?” Eleanor replied.

“Deal!” 

The exchange was made with such ease that Malik wondered if the crews hadn’t known what their captains would say in advance. His later asking resulted in Livia telling him, “Junior is one of Kite’s sons. He tested all the barrels when we first brought them on and labeled them. You see we’ve got four left with ‘x’s on them, and then two through five there.”

“What does that mean?”

“We gave Kite barrel one, since she would take it to be either the first or the best. It is the best of the numbered ones. The x’s are the ones we keep for ourselves at any cost.”

The newcomers aboard the ship were at least has helpful as Malik, which embarrassed him quite a lot. A girl who couldn’t have been older than ten was a better cook than him, and nearly all of them put more effort into their cleaning, each trying to prove themselves the most useful. Whenever he was shown up, Malik could count on one of the crew patting his shoulder hard and saying, “Well, you’re still our Pretty Boy.”

He spent the next two nights in the captain’s quarters again, locked away from the children. Eleanor stayed in the barracks with them, which he heard from the rest of the crew was normal for her when they got three-c’s in.

“What does that mean?” he finally had to ask.

“Child, caster, captive,” Fritz told him. “I was in a group of ‘em when I got here, but my brother was the caster, not me. He’s in Alais now, sends me letters through the harbormaster sometimes. Eleanor’s good for the kids. Shows them that there’s more to what they can do than fear, or power. It’s a tool, same as a hammer. It can kill you if you don’t use it right, or it can build a house for ten. She teaches the kids to build houses.”

Malik caught her at it the next night after dinner. He was coming up with Livia to hold the sail cords while she tied them up for the night. Eleanor was on the deck, showing a huddle of kids something that shone through the darkness at their feet. It cast a bright blue light over all their faces, and twinkled in Eleanor’s hair and clothes. The hands of every child shone in a similar way, but none as bright, and all in different colors, here a green, there an orange, beside that a pink so light and bright it was like the girl held dawn in her palm. 

That night, locked alone, he dreamed of being naked with her, surrounded by an icy light that warmed them both. He woke up hot and sweating when the dream said his name.

Malik woke late the next morning, as no one had called for him. He banged on the door to no effect, and tried shouting out the window. He was stuck in the room for a little more than an hour before the door finally clicked open.

“There you are, I thought you’d forgotten…”

Eleanor was at the door, looking serious, but she was not the person who had opened it. A tall, older woman, with the same thin face as Kite Randolph, but with pure white hair cropped short above her shoulders was staring down at him. Her clothes were definitely rich, in royal blue and pale brown, with a gold ornament in her hair that Malik was certain he had seen somewhere before.

“Definitely,” the woman said. “He’s their spitting image. Drop him anywhere, Eleanor. They’ve put out the calls on every port. Good of you to keep him hidden all this time. Brick can get a good ransom from this. I can guarantee your crew thirty-five percent. I’ll do my damnedest to make it fifty.”

“I want a receipt of that. And I’ll be keeping an ear to the ground for how much they say it was,” Eleanor replied. “Thank you, Pickett. Anything else I can do for you?”

“Give me your worst beer with the four kids. I’ll get you some more eggs. We just got a load and I’m right sick of them.”

“Tell Junior and it’s done.”

The woman, Pickett, left just as Malik realized who she was. Eleanor shut the door behind her.

“That circlet is the right of Ampany’s royalty,” he stammered to her.

“That is the queen of the Randolph Rebels,” Eleanor retorted, “and Ampany has long ago replaced her lost jewelry.”

“Replacements are not the same as—“

“Where do you get your loyalty from, Malik Zampieri?”

Malik’s voice died in his throat.

“That is your name then? Pickett knew of the rewards posted for information about you. I was not lying when I said we had no welcoming parties awaiting us. Perhaps they thought we traded you to our superiors or simply tossed you over. Brick will negotiate a transfer.”

“She told you to drop me anywhere,” Malik pointed out.

“And so I shall,” said Eleanor. “Most likely, I’ll drop you with the rest of the children, and the stir you cause will allow them to slip in to the city with less notice. Many will be refugees after all. But there are enough captain’s kids in Tourenne for me to know they will be housed.”

“Captain’s Kids?” Malik repeated, momentarily distracted.

“The ones who can contact me if they run into trouble,” Eleanor said. “The ones I’ve resettled out of slavery in the past.”

Malik bit his tongue, the thought of going home washing over him like a cold bath.

“Tourenne?” he asked.

“You have a day and a half, tops. And you only get one set of pants. We hardly have enough clothes for ourselves around here.”

“Eleanor…”

She left without another word, locking the door once again behind her. Malik pounded on it for twenty minutes with no answer.  
  


* * *

  
It was Livia who finally let him out for dinner, well after Queen Pickett and the four children she had taken with her were gone. Malik had tear-stains on his cheeks when she found him, which she helped him to wipe away.

“This is no life for one who still loves part of the land,” she whispered. “To be separated from the ones you love, those who are your family, there is no greater sorrow.”  
She was very confused when this made him cry all the harder, and brought him a plate of dinner to have on his own. She left the door unlocked for him, so after he had eaten, Malik went up to the deck, to look at the incredible stars that Kingston never showed him one time more.

Eleanor was there, with the six kids that remained, showing them more of her icy sparkle. Malik waited in the shadows, watching her play with them for a long time. His tears dried and started again, before Eleanor packed up her last few spells and ushered the kids back downstairs. Only once they were gone did she acknowledge Malik. 

“I don’t have your old clothes,” she told him.

“I never thought you would,” he replied. “Eleanor—”

“I thought we had agreed on ‘Captain’.”

“I think I’m in love with you,” he blurted out before he could hesitate again. Eleanor scoffed.

“I think you are the worst case of cabin fever in the history of this ship,” she told him.

“Please, it’s not—”

“Have you a lover, back on shore?” Eleanor interrupted again.

“I did,” Malik answered.

“Her name?”

“Mischa broke it off with me weeks before I came here,” Malik said too quickly for Eleanor to cut him off. “This feels different.”

“That’s because it’s a syndrome. We’re all stuck together. It’s part of the bonding process,” Eleanor replied.

“Then why do I only feel this way about you?”

“Maybe you like taking orders more than you realize. There are places in the city that can accommodate that, although rumor has that any noble-born wife would do.”

“I’m trying to say I’m going to miss you!” Malik moaned.

“And I am trying to tell you that in a week you will hate me,” sighed Eleanor in return. “You will remember the facts and not the emotion. You will look back on this as an adventure through which you persevered despite our cleverest wiles. And to some small extent you will be right. But know that it is our kindness that kept you here, not your efforts.”

“You think I couldn’t tell how much better that eight-year-old boy was at scrubbing deck than me?”

“If it’s any consolation—”

“Yes, yes, I’m still your Pretty Boy,” Malik groaned.

Finally, Eleanor laughed.

“You may sleep without chains tonight if you wish, in the barracks. I’ll be awaiting a letter on my desk that tells me to release you.”

“If I kept the chains on, would I be allowed to sleep with you?” he asked.

“On the floor, perhaps,” Eleanor teased.

They walked below the deck side by side, and Eleanor pulled him into the captain’s quarters with her, where she removed his shirt brusquely. She tossed it over her desk, wrinkling her nose at the smell, then stepped behind him to undo the chains.

“Look at the difference just a week can make. You’ve lost all your city fat. Nothing but muscle and bone now,” she said.

“I didn’t have much to lose,” Malik chuckled.

“Perhaps not, but if you had looked like this the first time I saw you shirtless, I wouldn’t have called you Boy.”

“I’ll have to take up some sort of training regimen to keep in shape until someone kidnaps me again,” Malik said.

It hurt when she stripped the gloves form his arms, peeling away the material like a second layer of skin. It was grimy and smelled of sweat inside the gloves and on his arms. Eleanor gave him a bucket filled with salt water and soap, along with a sponge to scrub clean, while she heated the gloves with magic to sanitize them. The smell of his body lingered in the air. Though she tossed him another shirt, one with stains and holes and hardly anything left of the sleeves, Malik used it only to dry off.

The next several seconds Eleanor spent sorting the letters at her desk. Malik watched as she scribbled notes on a pad, sticking the letters in between its pages or else in a drawer which she opened with a spark rather than a key. His mind, filled with bawdy pirate songs and romantic starlit nights, pictured her scrubbing tables with her crew, strong bare arms and nothing but a strip of cloth binding her chest. As his erection built, so did his imagination, till his ears could hear nothing but his name in her voice.

He wished he’d told her immediately. 

In the same thought, he wished she’d never found out at all.

“Brick’s already done,” she said, finally finding the letter she had been searching for. “Might as well stay here, then, and I’ll go with the kids one more…”  
Eleanor’s voice trailed off as she looked Malik over, her eyes widening at the level of his pantswaist. 

“What am I supposed to do with that?” she said.

“Anything,” Malik replied, his voice coming out higher than he had meant it to.

“If your royal parents didn’t want me dead already,” Eleanor barked.

“I would never let them.”

A grin pulled at one side of her mouth as she continued watching his hips.

“First you wouldn’t let me put your pants on…” she teased.

He let her take them off. He begged, actually, after she was done cupping his ass and lapping at his neck. Totally naked, he sat back on the bed and urged her into his lap, where both their fingers between her legs got Eleanor to Malik’s level of arousal. The flush in her cheeks made her seem younger and sweeter, and when he finally asked her age, he was surprised and delighted to find it very near his own, which he shared at once. Eleanor laughed and let him help with her tunic. 

Malik had done this a few times before, but never with so much enjoyment. Mostly, it had been a friend’s drunken sister with her mouth around him, or one of the girls paid to be at Philip’s coming of age party, where everyone’s hands had been down everyone’s pants, Malik’s most of all. The pleasure had been good, but never exquisite. When Eleanor climbed over him on her plush bed and straddled his hips, Malik could think of nothing beyond her, her sandy hair and tanned, tough arms, her flushed neck and skin that sparkled with magic that poured out of her like sweat. 

In that moment, Malik had never wanted anything more in his life.

The singular moment lasted very little time at all, of course, two inexperienced people trying their best. But they tried again once laughter had subsided into kissing, Malik on top while Eleanor wrapped her legs over his waist, rubbing herself while Malik thrust for all he was worth. And a third time after that, with Malik standing at the edge of the bed to get as far into her as he could, while Eleanor bit at her sheets to keep herself quiet.

Malik needed time to recover by then, but he knelt between her legs while Eleanor put a pillow over her face and spilled all down his front as he licked at her. He didn’t stop until she told him, gasping, that she couldn’t take any more.

They slept until sunrise, tangled and smelly, then Malik knelt before her again. Eleanor told him off while using both hands to pull his face closer, and spilled twice before urging him up again, and impaling herself once more. Only when they were done did she open the window to air out her room. They helped each other scrub down with the salt water and soap from the night before, and Eleanor let Malik re-tie the band around her chest before she replaced her pants and tunic. The last thing she did was pull his hair free of the knot Fritz had wound it into a week before. Taking a knife from her desk, Eleanor cut a lock from a strand that had come loose just behind his ear. She twirled it around her finger, then tucked it carefully into the smallest drawer in her desk, folded in paper.

“Is that where you keep all your conquests?” he joked.

“It might be, one day,” she returned.

Malik noticed with some embarrassment that Eleanor got quite as much teasing at breakfast as he did, though she handled it much better. It was very soon after the meal that they docked in Southern Libanira, and Malik found himself dragged down the plank with all six remaining children, Fritz, Junior, and Wes. Rini and Eleanor were already half-way up the mast, repair tools in their pockets and their mouths as they climbed. Malik tripped over his feet repeatedly, trying not to lose sight of her.  
He lost sight of his companions on the ground instead, and in trying to find them, realized that this had probably been intentional on their part. He raced back to the docks, only to see the ship taking off, Eleanor at it’s prow. With a crooked grin, she saluted him then turned back to her ship, and vanished into the winter mists.  
It took Malik two hours to find the Denaurd castle. After that, it was only fifteen minutes until he was home.  
  


* * *

  
The tearful reunion at the Zampieri household did not last nearly as long as Malik had hoped it might. His mother swore vengeance on anyone who had touched a hair on his head. As Malik had developed a certain fondness for Fritz, who was really just a boy, and something much more for Eleanor, he did not take well to these threats on their lives, and said so. 

“They are pirates! They deserve no more than the hanging they are due!” Amna Zampieri said in a low voice that dared no argument.

“You know nothing of them,” Malik pleaded anyway.

“They kidnapped you!”

“I was trying to track their ship—”

“To bring them to justice!”

“To kill them!” Malik shouted. “You would have done the same. Any of you. I wasn’t hurt. I wasn’t mistreated. The captain—”

“We know of Captain Eleanor of the Ocean’s Peak,” his father interrupted. “You know she was once Ampanian. A traitor to—”

“I LOVE HER!”

Malik was not allowed out of the house for the following three days, until his mother believed she had restored some sense to him.


	2. The Trapped Prince

It took months for the incident to quiet down. Malik was teased by every acquaintance he’d ever had, called “pirate booty” more times than he could count, and coddled excessively by both of his parents, who scheduled his activities as they had done when he was a boy. There, at least, Malik was able to have some say in what he did. He took up lessons in magic (against his father’s wishes, but just in case he was ever trapped again), and started learning how to sail properly (against his mother’s wishes, but just in case he ever needed the knowledge again). The rest of his time, he spent mostly in the palace in Kingston, helping one or the other of his parents with governmental work that primarily involved national security on the borders and in the sea.

And almost every night he dreamed of rocking back and forth with Eleanor, waves beneath them and within.

It eased Malik’s shame when two subsequent attempts at tracking the pirate ships ended similarly to his own - one with the young sailor in question getting actually thrown off of Kite Randolph’s ship just off the Kingston docks, and the other an experienced woman going missing for almost two weeks. She was found early one morning in Sudapor, gagged and hogtied from an unknown ship. Her tracking token was beside her, its carving slashed through with a deep ‘x’ that rendered it useless.   
The teasing dropped off altogether after that. 

Early in the morning a few days later, Malik sat on the balcony over the palace ballroom with a sketchpad and a pencil, watching the sea. He didn’t notice until too late that he had company.

“Is that her?”

“Excuse me, Your Highness!” Malik gasped, shutting the sketchpad quickly on his poor drawing of Eleanor, semi-nude in her sails.

“No, please?” the prince said, reaching to stop the book’s closing. “I’d love to see.”

“I’m too weak an artist, I’m afraid,” replied Malik. 

The prince frowned, then turned out to the sea and rested his arms on the railing.

“What was it like? Being out there on the water?” he asked.

“Less fun than it sounds,” answered Malik. “There’s always cleaning to do and potatoes to peel, and everything smells of fish. You can’t take baths very often, and you can’t ever be alone, and you get sick from the floor always rocking under your feet.”

“But you miss it.”

Malik looked up, but the prince had not turned back around to him. He was still staring far away, at water he had grown up beside and never been allowed upon. 

“It’s not that easy, Devraj,” Malik said after a minute.

“You’re always thinking about it,” Dev replied. “I see you looking out there, same as I do. But you’re looking for one ship. Her ship.”

Malik’s silence was his assent.

“Tell me what it was really like, please?”

“I did tell you, Dev.”

“Those aren’t the parts you miss,” Dev insisted. “Tell me why you keep looking for that ship.”

Malik’s eyes sank to the sketchpad in his hands.

“Oh,” Dev said.  
  


* * *

  
Fritz was able to pass off the latest child, a nine-year-old boy who reminded him of himself, with spectacular ease. The network of Captain’s Kids was strong in Kingston now, and one or two were usually waiting by the docks to take the recent batches under their arms and into the markets. Fritz had a few pieces of silver and was getting desperate for a little spice to put on his food. Nothing too fancy, but anything for a change of pace. The Ocean’s Peak hadn’t had a really decent cook in months. He took a pocketful of silver - his portion from Pretty Boy’s ransom - and scoured the market for anything that would keep a long time.

A large shaker of cumin, a small grinder of peppercorn, and a few twigs of cinnamon later, he was headed back to the docks, only to have someone run into him.

“Watch your step, there,” Fritz said, checking his pockets. Everything was in order.

“Sorry,” replied the boy. “My fault. I’m only…”

It took Fritz a moment to realize the boy had stopped speaking, and yet another before it occurred to him that his mouth might be hanging open. Before him stood the prettiest boy Fritz had ever seen. Smooth, dark skin in a gentle face, with a full lower lip. The boy’s nose was long, but not aggressively so, and had the turn-up of youth that would one day leave it royally strong. His hair was a sweep of black curls that framed his face perfectly, and his eyes round and warm. Fritz could nearly feel his heart leaving his chest.

“No,” Fritz stammered, “No, no bother at all. Glad to… to… Where were you headed?”

“The docks,” the boy said. “I need to get on a ship.”

“Allow me to walk you there,” Fritz offered, trying to remember everything Rini had ever tried to teach him about charm and flirting. “I’m Fritz Engel, by the way, seaman and trader.”

“I’m Dev,” the boy said. There seemed to be more, but Dev didn’t offer it, and Fritz, who was in no position to be sharing everything about himself just yet, did not ask.

“Been on many ships?” Fritz asked.

“Never,” said Dev, “but I can be a quick study. I just need… I need to try.”

“I won’t judge,” Fritz said at once. “We’ve taken on plenty of land-locks before. Some of them turn dead useful. I was one myself until about five years ago.”

Dev smiled at him, bright white teeth that made Fritz’s breath catch. Somewhere in the back of his mind, an alarm went off that people who kept their teeth that clean tended to be ransom, but Fritz was unable to heed such logic yet. He was too busy fighting his erection.

Hope and a small amount of pride led Fritz to the edge of the dock before he asked if Dev knew which ship he was looking for.

“No idea. I’m hoping someone will take me on,” he said.

“Well don’t accept less than two silver a day. That’s fair market trade,” Fritz told him. “And talk to the crew before chatting with the captain. They’ll be honest if you press ‘em away from the ship.”

“What’s your captain like?”

“She’s the best in the world,” Fritz beamed, this being exactly the question he had hoped Dev would ask. “Rescues orphans, gives us equal share, helps with everything from the rigging to the scrubbing, knows all the best dirty songs, will eat the last fish on deck so none of the rest of us have to. She’s a right treat to work for.”

“Is she hiring?”

Fritz felt his heart soar.

“Let me go on and ask. Wait here just a—”

“Fritz!”

Rini raced up the dock and grabbed Fritz by the elbow before he could tell her to slow down. 

“We need to go, now. No time wasting. Hope you’re the last. City just went on high alert.”

“I was recruiting!”

“Not now, Fritz,” Rini said. “Crown Prince went missing an hour ago. Guards checking every ship. Eleanor!”

“We ready to launch?” Eleanor asked.

“There’s a boy—“ Fritz started, but Rini never let him finish.

“Crown Prince is missing. They’re searching the ships. We’ve got to go, now, before they seal the city down!”

Eleanor swore and raced to the stern. Her hurry made the illusion covering the sails slip, and the light blue faded from top to bottom to reveal the yellow color the cloth truly was. Fritz looked down in horror as Dev took a step backwards, his eyes widening in understanding.

“I’m sorry!” Fritz called. “I would have told you!”

The beautiful boy raced down the dock, out of sight. Fritz let out the longest string of swear words he’d ever used in his life, then went to help Livia with the sails.   
  


* * *

  
“What did you tell him?” Nehemiah Zampieri moaned to his son.

“Nothing!” Malik said. “He asked what it was like and I told him it was all potato peeling and laundry and seasickness. He dropped the subject and never brought it up with me again, I swear!”

“Did you help him out of the palace?” 

“No!” Malik cried. “Am I not in enough trouble as it is?”

“We all are now,” Nehemiah grumbled. “Get home. I don’t want to—”

“I might be able to help find him, if he did get on a ship.”

“I said I do not wish to hear it, Malik!” Nehemiah shouted. Malik stopped talking, but kept his father’s gaze long enough to repeat his point. “I hope it was her ship he got on, if any,” Nehemiah admitted in a very low whisper. “But do not let your mother know that.”  
  


* * *

  
The Ocean’s Peak did not dock in Ampany for the next week and a half, instead skirting Libanira’s many borders. Livia, Rini, and Wes all made Fritz describe the boy whose face woke him in the middle of the night time and time again. Eventually, Eleanor had to tell them to leave off, because she couldn’t stand the sight of him blushing any more. 

“How do you stand it?” he asked her scrubbing the side of the ship the next morning, the only privacy they were likely to get.

“Learn to masturbate,” Eleanor suggested. “It’s not exactly the same, as I can now tell you from experience, but it does help with the heartache. There’s a door beside my quarters you’ve seen I’m sure. That’s the real captain’s quarters. I sleep in the first mate’s bunk. Captain’s quarters is reserved for couples and privacy, if you know what I mean.”

She slipped the key to him that night, and Fritz found that it did help a little.

A green-sailed monstrosity stood in their way the next morning. Even its sails were trimmed with gold, and the whole ship gleamed with an eerie glitter that made Fritz’s lip curl.

“I want to hit it out of spite,” Rini said.

Eleanor, thankfully, agreed. While the distance was still on their side, she stood in the mast and danced the sails green and the wood darker. When the two ships were close enough, Fritz and Rini snuck over together to check the noble ship’s underbelly.

There were twenty-five aboard, the most Fritz had ever seen. Fritz snuck back to spread the word while Rini worked on taking inventory on what else could be stolen. Ten minutes later, Eleanor was scrambling through a porthole on the side of the ship, while Livia had taken over her illusion in the mast, Junior helping from the deck. It took them both to do what Eleanor could handle alone, but neither of them were small enough to get through a porthole. 

It wasn’t until all twenty-five were safely in the barracks, as well as the three sacks of potatoes and a chest of jewels that Rini had uncovered, that Fritz went down to look at his new temporary shipmates. Very few were Norste-born.

“Dev?!”

The beautiful boy turned sad, hurt eyes up with hope that looked like fear in his face.

“What happened? How’d you get in a Norste ship’s cell? Are they attacking Ampanian ships now?”

“Please,” Dev whispered, “Please don’t make a fuss. I’ll be quiet, I swear.”

“Nonsense,” Fritz told him. “You’re on the Ocean’s Peak now. No mistreating, no slavery. You’re safe here.”

The whisper went around the barracks like a wave, “The Ocean’s Peak? The pirate ship? The caster captain?” Fritz assured them of which rumors were true, which had been his original purpose in coming down. When Livia gave the all-clear, he showed them the way out onto the deck, where they could see the sunlight for the first time in over a week. Dev was the last one to move, and when Fritz held out his hand, the beautiful boy threw his arms around Fritz’s neck and started to sob. Fritz, half guilt and half joy, hugged him back tightly.

It was quickly decided, with so many refugees aboard, that they had to make the next stop as safe as possible. Since the ship was already at Alais, and there was food aboard for four days, Eleanor gathered her strength and sped the ship around the Southern and Western Libaniran coasts with only one stop. Only Junior and Livia disembarked there, and only to trade silver for more food. Eleanor slept the entire time they were docked.

Far around the edge of the country, where the sun seemed to set on the wrong side of the sea, a little island half-way between Paline and Portown was surrounded by yellow-sailed ships. Some were little more than fishing boats, others as grand as the Norste King’s best warships, but the size of a ship was of little importance, the Randolphs insisted, if you could count on its crew being able to use it effectively. 

Livia and Junior had sent the proper missives ahead, and all four Randolph elders were waiting for them when the Ocean’s Peak docked around the far side of the island, Eleanor half-collapsed in sweat on the prow. Rini and Wes helped her down, and steadied her on the too-still land that her legs barely understood anymore.

“Twenty-five, and most of them Ampanian?” Pickett asked before saying ‘hello’.

“All would be, if the border hadn’t moved,” Eleanor replied. “I don’t know what to do with so many, and this must be just the start. They were almost to Alais, might have dropped some elsewhere, even left some in Norstoan. I haven’t had the chance to get a proper story out of any of them. Rini and Fritz might be able to tell you more.”

“I suggest you drop those with families in Portown,” Pickett said. “Their harbor is full.”

“Of fish,” Eleanor frowned.

“And other goods, these days. Herenstadt has been sending out more trade on this border lately. We watch them sail by. It will be good cover for you.”

Wes and Livia got the refugees in a line. Most stood proud, or looked around in awe, but Dev hid his face and his breathing went very shallow.

“What’s happened to that one?” asked Kite Randolph, her eyes narrowed.

“Bit off more than he could chew, I think,” answered Rini. “He’s dead useless on a ship. Might be everywhere else, too. Makes our old Pretty Boy look right helpful in comparison.”

“Be nice!” hissed Fritz.

“Oh, and our Fritz has the hots for him.”

Pickett rolled her eyes while Kite gave a low whistle. Fritz felt his cheeks go red hot, so he punched Rini in the shoulder. Ignoring the lot of them, Brick Randolph, the eldest and shortest of all four siblings, stepped to the shy boy.

“Ampanian?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” Dev answered.

“Got a name?”

“I’d prefer not to share it,” Dev replied, his voice cracking.

“Can’t help you get home without it.” Brick put a gentle hand under Dev’s chin and tilted his face up. His eyes went wide, and he mumbled something under his breath. Then he shouted over his shoulder, “Eleanor, how is it always you?”

“And what the shit have I done now?” 

“Gone and found the missing Crown Prince of Ampany,” Brick responded. “Congrats, girlie. You’re a national effing hero.”

“Well you can take that to the bargaining table with the Zampieri’s, can’t you?” Eleanor shouted back, less phased by this news than anyone else present. “Otherwise, fat lot of good it’s going to do me, as there’s a warrant out for my head off my shoulders for stealing their son.”

“And good luck proving we didn’t take him in the first place,” Rini added. Beside her, Wes seemed to be muttering, “fucking shit the fucking prince” repeatedly to himself. 

“I’m sorry,” Dev said, looking straight at horror-struck Fritz. “I would have told you, I swear.”

“Don’t fret it,” Fritz managed. “After all, you’d have to be a prince to be that attractive. It’s only fair.”

Dev flushed a very, very dark brown.  
  


* * *

  
On the Ocean’s Peak that night, the barracks were so full that some of the crew decided to host a party on the deck and sleep under the stars instead. Eleanor, still exhausted from speeding the ship around half a country, did not join them. She did, however, leave the key to the private quarters hanging on the door handle, in case anyone developed a need of it. Fritz slipped it into his pocket as soon as he noticed.

He found Dev on the deck, apart from where Rini was leading a sing-a-long about sexual encounters, and joined him a moment to stare at the sky.

“I never knew the sky was so bright,” Dev murmured. 

“I can’t imagine living in a city where you can’t see the stars,” Fritz replied. “It would be so sad, never knowing that they’re up there. We hear that a lot from the rescues we get.”

“And the captives?” Dev said slyly. 

“That actually happens less often than you’d think. At least on here. Word has that Pickett and Kite take a fair few, but Eleanor almost never does. She doesn’t like the political hassle.”

“Just Malik Zampieri and me,” countered Dev. 

“You know Pretty— sorry, you know Malik?”

Dev burst out laughing. “You really called him that? For a week?”

“He responded to it, too. He never gave us his name. The Randolphs had to tell Eleanor, just before we dropped him off.”

“He thinks about this place all the time. I think he loved it here,” Dev told him. “In the palace, unable to go anywhere by myself, I thought an adventure like that sounded wonderful. I tried so hard to get him to talk about it, but he never would. I understand now. That place, being a prisoner, it was horrible. You wouldn’t do that to people?”

“We chained him to the bed sometimes, but never without food, and only while we were making sure he didn’t jump overboard or attack us at night,” Fritz admitted. “We’ve never beat anyone. Eleanor wouldn’t stand for it. One of the caster kids in my group was a bully, and was threatening a girl one day. Eleanor and Rini threw him overboard. Left him there for ten minutes, and only pulled him up when he apologized. That’s the kind of ship we run.”

Smiling at the stars, Dev pulled his hands up to his elbows.

“Getting cold?” Fritz asked.

“A bit. I’m never out late. Well, I wasn’t before…”

Fritz held out a hand, and Dev took it at once. After making sure that no one was watching them, Fritz escorted Dev down the stairs and into the plush captain’s quarters. He hung the key on the door handle, so he wouldn’t lose it or forget it going out. 

“What’s this?” Dev asked.

“Privacy,” said Fritz. “Is that alright?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t it…” Dev paused in the middle of his sentence, understanding what Fritz was too embarrassed to say. “Yes. Yes, it’s good.”

“Did you want to be an honest sailor?” Fritz asked. “Give up all your royal titles for the chance at serving your country and maybe catching some fish?”

“I don’t know quite what I wanted,” admitted Dev. “To be on the other side of that wall, mostly. On the other side of my window. Have an adventure.”

“Would you do it again?”

Dev thought harder over this than Fritz had expected him to, and Fritz worried that he might have ruined the mood.

“If I’d known everything,” Dev said slowly, “I think I’d have raced after you on the dock that day. You were a lot kinder than the man who took me on. He seemed to be taking a bunch of runaway kids. I slipped in with them. When the useful ones were sold in Bethilde…” Dev shuddered. “I kept my head down and stayed as useless as possible.”

“Best you could have done under the circumstances,” Fritz reassured him. “And when you get home you’ll have the power to send people after them, get your citizens back. It’s not all bad.”

“I will,” Dev said. “There has to be some upside to going back to Kingston after all.”

Fritz shared a sad smile with Dev, quite sure now that there was no way to bring up romance without sounding like an ass.

“If you’d asked me that morning, before I got outside,” Dev whispered, “I would have said I wanted to try being a pirate. It seemed from there that you got all the fun.”

“We have a pretty good time on the sea, when we aren’t getting chased by port authorities,” Fritz chuckled.

“I don’t know that I could steal anything, though,” said Dev.

“You could practice in here,” Fritz offered, seeing a cheesy opportunity and trying to get Rini out of his head.

“What would I steal?” Dev asked, innocence and mischief twinkling together in his face.

Fritz stole a kiss by way of example.

To his incredible delight, Dev followed his lead and stole it back.

The prince had definitely thought more about kissing, or read more about it, maybe practiced with someone before, but Fritz chose not to consider that possibility. Dev took Fritz’s lips between his teeth and slipped his tongue into Fritz’s open mouth. It was absolute, complete bliss, the way their hands pressed at each other’s backs, the warmth of skin delightful in the evening air. Dev asked breathlessly for a night of rule-breaking and as much piracy as Fritz could teach him.

Fritz was more than happy to oblige.  
  


* * *

  
The only comments Fritz got the next morning were a high-five from Rini, and a crooked grin from Eleanor, neither of whom could help but notice the necklace of bruises that certainly had not come from the rigging as Fritz claimed.  
  


* * *

  
The Portown harbor was indeed very full when the Ocean’s Peak arrived two days later.  No docks were open for new arrivals, so Eleanor had Junior steer the ship north of the official docks, and onto a sand bank out of sight of the markets. Livia jumped down from the prow, landing knee-deep in water. As soon as she had steadied the gangway, she turned to see a girl staring out from the woods at the ship.

“Nottie!”

Livia ran as fast as the water would let her. The girl met her halfway, soaking her shoes and pants in the sea. Mother and daughter laughed, sopping wet in each other’s arms, until they were crying for lack of breath. By the time they had settled into a more comfortable embrace, the ship was near to empty.

“You’ve gotten taller,” Eleanor commented. “And cut your hair.”

“Several times since you last got off,” Nottie replied. “How long are you staying?”

“Hardly an hour for me and the ship,” Eleanor said. “Livia, take a week. I can give you two if you like. Keep Devraj here with you, quietly, until I send word. I’d prefer not to have him aboard, just in case.”

“Of course. Thank you, Eleanor,” agreed Livia, hugging her daughter close. “Where’s your father, dearest?”

“Market. He’s going to be thrilled. Your letter came after he had gone in this morning, so he doesn’t know yet. I’ve got everything laid out for dinner.”

“Why don’t I come help you cook?” Livia offered. “Devraj? Come with us. Let’s get some food that isn’t fish.”

Dev hesitated, even though Livia held out her arm kindly for him. He turned back to Fritz, who was busying himself with the younger kids.

“Will I see you again?” he whispered.

Though Fritz didn’t reply, the slump of his shoulders let Dev know the likely answer.

“If anyone can find a way to get their wishes, princeling, it’s probably going to be you,” Eleanor scoffed. “Off with you. And check the markets regularly. There’s usually a kid or two in there with a token you might recognize. It’s not forever, whatever Pretty Boy might have told you and himself.”

Fritz couldn’t hide his laughter, and Rini never tried.

“You have so much to tell me,” Nottie said, “Hurry up. The food will get cold and Da will beat us home!”

It wasn’t until Dev’s footsteps had faded that Fritz allowed himself to turn around and watch. A gentle hand settled on his shoulder. He was sure it was going to be Eleanor until he noticed her climbing back aboard.

“Don’t worry, Fritz,” Rini whispered. “We all find ways to make the impossible work out here. We’ve got your back.”

* * *

  
Dev was hugely embarrassed to be a part of the joyful reunion at the Thompson household. He had never felt so out of place in his life. Thankfully, while Livia was distracted by her husband, Nottie Thompson — a tanned girl who wore her hair in a long braid down her back — pulled Dev out of the kitchen and sat him in a small plush chair. She sprawled in one across from him, grinning like Harvest Fest had come early. 

“So are you a new recruit?” she asked.

“No, I’m… an accident,” Dev said. 

“How did you get that nickname?”

“What?” asked Dev.

“Princeling,” Nottie laughed. “You aren’t a Randolph, are you? I thought they were paler.”

“No, nothing like… I was on a Norste ship. I got off with the others. They’re sending me back to Kingston, eventually.”

“You don’t sound excited about that,” Nottie observed. “I’d love to see Kingston one day. All those shops and festivals, and food from all over the world. Must be lovely to be in a place so full of life.”

“Maybe I’d like it better if I could get out more. I… feel stuck whenever I’m there.”

Nottie glanced over her shoulder to the hall, where light from the kitchen spilled around the corner.

“I know what that’s like. I’ll get on a ship one day,” she murmured.   
  


* * *

  
Two weeks came and went, and Eleanor never wrote. This wasn’t entirely her fault, as she never got word herself that a deal had been brokered in Kingston for the return of their prince. The crew barely made it across the newly secured border patrols, however, and Eleanor deigned to pick up Livia again as soon as they were in sight of Portown. Nottie and Harold saw her off at the shore, away from the docks once again for safety rather than room this time.

“Please let me come,” Nottie pleaded. “Just once around and you can drop me the next time you’re here. I can cook, I can work, I want to try.”

“You’re still young,” Livia said.

“Fritz is younger!”

“He has nowhere else to be. You know that.”

“And I’m alone in the house all day wishing I was out with you!” Nottie protested. “Please, just one month, and you can send me back by magic. Please, Mom.”

“Nottie, you know we don’t live like this because we want to,” said Rini, trying to be helpful.

“I have magic too! Take me, please!”

“I will strike a bargain,” Eleanor announced, ending the argument with volume rather than niceties. “With Livia’s leave, we will pick you up on our next trip. Wait, do not protest yet. I still have heard nothing regarding Devraj. Look after him here, Notburga. Don’t let him out of your sight. We’re headed back to the island on Pickett’s orders, then coming here again for him. You will join us then. It will be about a week. Livia, is that fair?”

Between Eleanor’s folded arms and Nottie’s hopeful eyes, Livia could hardly refuse. 

“Get your father’s blessing,” she assented. “I’ll talk to him before you get aboard, so I know. And it will depend on how the next week goes.”

“I can handle it, Mom,” Nottie promised. “Everything will be fine.”

When the ship had departed earshot, Eleanor forestalled her scolding by telling Livia, “Pickett says we’ll need to stay off shore for two weeks or so. They’ll bring supplies to us. It will be about keeping something off the land, where it can’t be tracked. It’s the safest possible start, and as soon as she gets seasick, you can send her home.”

To this, Livia agreed more readily.  
  



	3. Mistress Zampieri

Walking through an unlocked door, Malik was surprised to find the house dark inside. He dropped his work bag in the hall and walked through to the kitchen.

“Mom? Dad?”

No one answered him. The quietness of the house bordered on eerie, so he wasted some matches and lit every lamp downstairs, even the ones that didn’t contribute much to the brightness of a room. He opened all the shutters and shades, and brought in as much air as he could. Something still felt wrong. Antsyness in his arms and chest, Malik grabbed his work again, carrying it to the kitchen table. He shuffled aimlessly through the papers until his father got home a little more than an hour later.

“Did your mother go out again?” he asked.

“She must have,” said Malik. “Left the door unlocked though. That isn’t like her. I’ve been trying to shake a bad feeling since I got here.”

Nehemiah found Amna’s shoes and bag in their bedroom, abandoned alongside a cup of coffee, which had long since gone cold.  
  


* * *

  
The Advisor was the largest, grandest ship the Randolphs had at their disposal, so naturally it stayed under the command of whoever headed the family at the time. Queen Pickett hardly ever set her to sail, preferring to leave the grand ship docked and take the little ones out for subtlety. Today, however, she had Eleanor join her on the deck, which appeared to have suffered some recent damage to the woodwork.

“Had a bit of a scuffle,” Pickett said when pressed. “It will clean easily. But take it as a warning.”

“What exactly are you giving me to look after,” Eleanor asked for the fifth or sixth time. 

“You will need to stay on the water. No docking for any reason. Kite and Wart will get supplies to you,” Pickett continued.

“I was hoping to make another pick-up in Portown.”

“Have it rowed out to you, or send some crew to pick it up and bring it back,” replied Pickett. “Cargo or personnel?”

“Notburga Thompson and the captive prince,” Eleanor answered.

Pickett thought in silence for a moment, stopped in front of the door to the first mate quarters in the Advisor’s grand underbelly. 

“How old is Livia’s girl?”

“Must be near seventeen,” Eleanor guessed.

“I’ll pick her up. Let Livia know. She can stay on the island for a while, and you can grab her when you’re done. I want the prince out here with us for now.”

Eleanor narrowed her eyes. “I’m asking again for specifics. What am I doing here?”

“This will help with your death-warrant,” Pickett replied easily. “Call it a present, for recent services well-rendered.”

“Forgive my suspicion, but I don’t trust that wording.”

Pickett eased the door open, and ushered Eleanor in first. In the center of the room was a tall woman, tied to a chair with heavier chains than Eleanor would have thought to use. It was clearly necessary, however, as the chains were mangled and melted in places, and the gloves that covered the woman’s dark skin were burned at the fingertips. Not only did she wear a caster collar, but her wrists were bound, as were her ankles and knees, and a gag tied tight over her mouth. Her dark eyes blazed with imminent murder.

“Do you hate me now?” Eleanor asked incredulously. “What have I done to deserve this?”

“As I said, this will make your death-warrant easier to evade,” Pickett began again.

“I’m not sure I believe that!” interrupted Eleanor. 

“Do take extra precaution. She is something of a handful.”

“I can see that,” Eleanor said. “Who is she, exactly?”

“Amna Zampieri, wife of Commander Nehemiah Zampieri,” Pickett replied.

“You’ve kidnapped the Commander’s wife?!” Eleanor screeched. “How the fuck is that supposed to help a death-warrant?! You don’t think this is a little excessive?”

“I have removed the enforcer of said death-warrant from Ampany’s lands,” said Pickett.

“And are putting her on my ship! I—” Eleanor paused, her eyes widening, then began again, “That Zampieri? The enforcer? The one who set Brick’s old ship on fire from half a mile off the Evina port?”

“The same, though she’s been in a parliamentary position for several years now.”

“Pickett, I’m begging you, just let her go!” Eleanor cried. “We don’t want her here. I don’t want her here!”

“Can’t,” Pickett said simply. “She’ll kill us on sight. Careful, she’s got a fair amount of magic, and she isn’t afraid to use it. Also, she bites.”

“Personal experience I take it?” snapped Eleanor.

“Get her aboard the Peak as soon as possible. I want her off my ship. Then circle. Get out and stay moving. Kite and Wart will find you.”  
  


* * *

  
While Nehemiah collapsed on his bed in tears, Malik raced outside. He jumped the low hedge that separated their property from the neighbor’s for speed, and took the back alleys in the hopes of being stopped by fewer people. It took him only half the usual ten minutes to get to the dockside markets, but he was very winded once he arrived.  

He stayed along the water’s edge, knowing that the tourist-driven stalls there would be more likely to take on inexperienced or foreign hires. When he finally spotted a likely candidate nearly fifteen minutes into his search, Malik stopped a stall down to listen. The floppy-haired pale kid said nothing for quite some time, but when he finally spoke, it was clear that he had not removed the burr of Norste from his voice. As soon as his patron had gone, Malik slid up behind him.

“Captain’s kid?”

The boy flinched, then decided to play cool and turn around with a cocky grin. 

“What’s it to a land-lock?”

“I need to get a message to Captain Eleanor,” Malik said, ignoring the jibe. “Can you get send it?”

“Depends on what kind of message,” the boy replied evasively. “I can’t be taking up too much of her time, busy schedules and all.”

“If you could just let her know that Pretty Boy says it’s extremely uncouth to kidnap people’s mothers, I would be very grateful.”

The boy’s grin shifted into slack-jawed stare.

“Eleanor don’t go for that,” he said. “She wouldn’t.”

“She’ll pass the message on to whoever did, then,” Malik replied. “Here, two silver for your troubles.”

“Uh-uh,” the boy said, shoving them away. “Don’t take money for casting or pirate business. It ain’t fair. Consider it done,” the grin flitted back over his face, “Pretty Boy.”  
  


* * *

  
It took Junior, Wes, Rini, and Fritz almost an hour and a half to maneuver Mistress Amna Zampieri sixty yards from one ship to another. She fought them the whole way, rocking the chair, pulling her chains loose, and managing to bite Rini’s shoulder so hard it bled.

“And Kingston calls us barbaric!” Rini cried while Livia healed the surprisingly deep gash.

Eleanor spent the whole time attempting to move her desk so that their latest guest could be permanently locked up, without having the chance of access to personal correspondence. It was in this time that she found a note from a Kingston child, written with some humor, that made the situation somehow sickeningly worse.

She got the desk into the barracks mostly through willpower, and with several marks on the old wall that would have to be covered again when she had more time. When Eleanor returned to the deck, her crew was standing on the prow in a timid semicircle, while Amna Zampieri, still bound and gagged, with even her chair now chained to the mast, snarling at them all.

“Oh don’t let her hurt the rigging,” Eleanor moaned. “We’ve got to keep sail. Juni, go helm for me. Wes, help him. Rini, I want you and Livia here until we’re safely out. Any chance you can get to the nest, Fritz?”

“Not with both my hands and feet, Captain,” Fritz said, eyeing the ladder just beside Amna. Eleanor did not push further. Instead, she climbed up a rope and walked across the top sail to scout herself. Fritz, embarrassed, took the stern position.

Eleanor did not come back down from the nest until an hour after they had lost sight of the Randolph stronghold. She then made Wes and Junior have a small contest for helmsman. She took the loser (Junior) with her for an all-crew deck meeting. 

“Everyone has now met our latest arrival, I’m sure,” she announced. “Formal introductions bade me mention that this is Commander Zampieri’s wife and confidant, so no secrets aloud, and speaker for the royal parliament, so even things you don’t say might get used against you. Be polite. Give her space. Hopefully when Wart and Kitey come with supplies, they’ll want to take her back ashore. I will also take this moment to tell you that this is Pretty Boy’s mother, and he’s right pissed at the lot of us.”

“Got his manners from his father, I take it,” Rini grumbled. 

“That is precisely the sort of talk I do not want to hear, thank you,” called Eleanor in return. 

“Respect, Captain, but did you see her teeth?!” 

For once in her life, Rini stopped talking under Eleanor’s glare.

“Now, Mistress Zampieri, would you prefer to remain on deck or below it? I have cleared a private room for you, should that be preferable.”

Amna, who was still gagged, attempted no response.

“Would you like the cloth removed from your mouth perhaps?”

Still nothing.

“Would you allow me to remove it for you?”

Eleanor held her gaze for several long seconds, until they both had to blink.

“Move your head and I cannot promise you won’t be burned. I will do my honest best to keep that from happening.”

With so many eyes on her, Amna was forced to stay somewhat still. There was no pull on the cloth, as Eleanor did not want to take the time to undo a knot. She cut the strip by burning the threads until they were weak enough to tear instead, then let Amna spit the gag from her mouth before yanking it away.

“You will not last long, pirate,” Amna hissed.

“I have just asked my crew to remain polite,” Eleanor replied shortly. “I might ask the same favor of you so we all get through the next few days with minimal headache.”

“I owe you no favors.” Amna spoke in such a dangerously low voice that Livia, Fritz, and Junior all leaned away from her, shuddering.

“You will as soon as you hunger, which I assume will happen shortly,” Eleanor retorted. “On the deck, or below it?”

“Is this how you treated my son when he was aboard?”

“Your son could be trusted to walk freely about this ship within the first day of his stay. I hold out hope that the same might be true for you.”

“Keep holding your breath,” Amna growled. “If I am lucky, you may yet drown in my presence.”

“Don’t you talk to my captain that way!” shouted Fritz.

“Easy,” Eleanor overrode the rumblings of protest from the rest of the crew. “We hold the advantage currently. We must be generous, should we expect any generosity in return.”

“You continue to use words you have no history of practicing,” Amna continued while Eleanor had her back turned. “All you do is steal. From your king. From your country. From your captives.”

“There ain’t no stealing in virginity freely given,” Rini snickered, only just loud enough to be heard. 

Amna attempted to launch herself to Rini’s throat, and did somehow succeed in moving the chair several inches forward. Rini leapt back with a yelp.

“At ease!” Eleanor shouted over everyone again. “Rini, enough. Go up to the helm. Fill in Wes for me.”

“You stole my son’s virginity?!” Amna all but screamed. “Dirty witch, I will have your head!”

“Rini is correct in that anything freely given cannot by definition be stolen,” Eleanor said, her even tone almost light and joking next to Amna’s murderous one. “She is however incorrect that I took his virginity. He did not board my ship with that.”

“You know nothing!”

“I know no virgin can do what he did with his tongue,” Eleanor countered. “I will ask you once more, would you rather be on the deck or below it?” 

Amna, who was quickly dissolving into an incoherent screaming fit, did not answer. Eleanor made the decision for her, and had Junior carry the chair down into her quarters, where Eleanor locked her in.

The Ocean’s Peak rang with shrieks and swears for nearly another hour.

“I’ve got so much more respect for Queen Pickett now,” Rini muttered as everyone lined the prow with their ears partly plugged. “How’d she say she caught her, Eleanor?”

“She and Kite broke into her house and drugged her,” Eleanor replied, her hands clutching her forehead. “In most circumstances, I would consider that to be unconscionable, but I’m starting to think I might copy them.”

“I wouldn’t,” Fritz warned. “No way you’d come out of that with ten fingers.”

They had to admit that he had a point.  
  


* * *

  
The ship did not find routine again for three days. In that time, Eleanor and Livia took food into the captain’s quarters together, feeding their guest with the longest fork they could find, one full plate three times each day. Clean drinking water was set up on a stool beside her, with a straw that she could reach if she was careful. To everyone’s surprise, the cup did not fall over once. 

“She’s playing us,” Livia commented. “It’s not a real tantrum. She has too much control over her situation. It’s a distraction of some sort.”

“Stop it, Livia, please. This ain’t making me feel better about anything,” Rini groaned in reply.

On four brief occasions, Eleanor was able to sneak inside with Fritz while Amna slept. One chain at a time, they transferred her to the bed, where she could sit and lie more comfortably, and had a little more mobility. They left her wrists and ankles bound, however, just to make sure, and tied each so that she could not reach either set of chains with her gloved fingers. It was incredibly awkward, but it meant that she did not have to be spoon fed any longer, and could use a pissing bucket all on her own. 

The third day also brought Wart and a ship full of supplies that said Queen Pickett was feeling some remorse or sympathy for having saddled them with this task. Two barrels of more-than-decent whiskey, a crate of flat bread, six dozen eggs, and four pies that looked handmade and smelled alcoholic. These were consumed within the hour.

A slice was even taken down to Amna, though it was refused.

“As you like it,” Eleanor said with a slight slur to her voice. “But believe me, this ship and this company looks much better tipsy.”

The pie was left in Amna’s care, and indeed gone by morning. Correctly guessing that Amna would be a heavier sleeper with the sedation of Wart’s finest liquor in her, Eleanor took the early morning opportunity to adjust the chains and meld them around the bedposts. When Amna awoke, it was to find that she would need a blacksmith to eventually free her wrists, but she could walk almost anywhere in the room that she liked.  
  


* * *

  
“I could be of help here in Kingston!” Malik argued. “If they come back—”

“If they come back I want you nowhere near the house, do you understand?” Nehemiah interrupted. 

“But—”

“You and your mother have already been stolen from this city,” Nehemiah said. “I’m begging you, Malik. Don’t put me through that again. Portown will be safe and easy. You can keep watch on the water there, and work with the guard. Who knows? You may find something helpful.”

So Malik was sent off, to the house of a man in Portown that his father knew. That evening was uneventful, but the very next morning Malik woke early and looked out the window of his bedroom to a sea on the wrong side of the world.

A large ship was just departing port, the white of its sails almost yellow in the dawn light.

Malik was dressed and had raced out the door before poor Mr. Jowett was even awake.  
  


* * *

  
The next person to visit, on the Peak’s seventh day of circling, was not Kitey, but Queen Pickett Randolph herself. She had her helmsman, a niece or cousin of some sort by the looks of her, keep pace with the Peak while the gangway made a pass for the ships over open water. Eleanor had Livia keep an eye on the unsteady wood, just in case.

“How are you holding out?” Pickett asked.

“Better than expected, but I remain displeased,” said Eleanor.

“I brought more goods from shore for that. And another thing of whisky. I had a feeling you might be out,” she said. “If it’s all the same to you and Livia, I’d like to keep Notburga with me for the trip round to Kingston. Follow us, if you would, at a reasonable distance.”

“Keep?” Livia asked loudly from where she’d eavesdropping. “Nottie’s aboard?”

“Can barely keep her from working,” Pickett replied over her shoulder. “You’ve left her locked up too long, Livia Thompson. She’s eager to prove herself now. Be done cleaning all my dishes and onto the deck by the time we’re unloaded I expect. She’s taught the little prince a few things, too.”

“Such as?” Eleanor asked, one eyebrow raised.

“A work ethic.” She took Eleanor aside and lowered her voice to continue. “I’m afraid he might be taken with her. He’s become more starry-eyed since I last saw him. Has that swing to his step boys get when…” she gave a significant glance to their shoes.

“Don’t blame Notburga for something my Fritz did,” Eleanor whispered back. “That boy is gayer than a Springstart picnic by the sea. He was like that when we dropped him in Portown. Take Fritz over for a bit if you’d like proof, but I’ll be wanting him back.”

“I’d be afraid I couldn’t separate them again,” Pickett admitted. “Good to know. Thank you. That eases my worries. I won’t mention to Livia just yet, but if her girl proves as useful as she’s trying to be, I’ll offer to take her on permanently. Been missing a good climber since you and Rini took over here.”

“I’ll keep that knowledge to myself until I feel like getting shouted at,” Eleanor remarked.

“How often does that happen these days?”

Eleanor’s lip curled a little as she rolled her eyes. “With Mistress Zampieri aboard, I intend to forget this entire conversation as soon as you disembark.”

Pickett clapped Eleanor hard on the shoulder, laughing broadly, and gathered her crew once more. While leaving, she whispered something to Livia, then to Fritz before crossing back over, her heels clicking regally on the plank, which fell back down to the side of her ship as soon as she was across. As Fritz stared after her, a tall dark boy stepped up into the light, blinking and holding his hand to shield his eyes. He was dressed in fine new clothes, with a golden ornament tangled in his black curls of wind-blown hair.

“Dev!” Fritz cried, waving in his joy. Dev’s face, a ship away, broke into a huge, disbelieving smile and he raced to the railing.

“Fritz!” he yelled back. “Are you staying?”

“I think we’re following!”

“Will I see you again?”

The crashing waves and ocean wind between the parting ships was too loud to shout over, Fritz knew, but he swung his legs confidently over the railing and sat upon it, watching the beautiful boy across the way with a grin. Dev waved heartily before they lost sight of each other. In all the commotion, no one noticed the little rowboat that tied itself to the other side of the Peak.  
  


* * *

  
Malik was superbly grateful for his lessons in sailing by the time he was caught up to the two ships far off of Portown’s shore. He had been rowing for most of a day by that point, with the sun already low on the water, getting ready to dazzle him with evening. He recognized the Ocean’s Peak from a good distance and decided on a whim to head there instead. His brain provided all sorts of logic for this choice — he was familiar with the ship and how to board it, he knew the captain and crew and was more likely to get a warm greeting, they seemed to be the ship getting supplies — none of which had anything to do with the real reasons, which were warm in his chest, cheeks, and crotch.

With the little bit of rope that had come with his borrowed boat, he latched his transport to an iron foothold in the side of the ship, then climbed up. It took some careful maneuvering, and he got very wet, but eventually came to a window that was unlatched. Tugging it open with his fingertips, Malik waited a moment, listening for any sounds from within before gripping the sill and pushing himself up and through. He landed on the floor in a sopping heap, wondering where he was.

“What are you doing here?”

“Mom?”

“I leave for one week and you’re breaking into pirate ships?” Amna hissed, coming to kneel by Malik on the floor.

“Don’t you pretend for a second that you planned this. Dad’s a wreck you know.”

“And you are running away to be a pirate, are you?”

“I was coming to look for you!” retorted Malik, who was struggling to keep his voice low. “Turn around. Let me get those gloves off.”

“You think I haven’t tried,” Amna muttered. She did as he asked however, sitting back on the edge of the bed. Malik took a deep breath while she wasn’t looking, trying desperately not to think about the last time he had been in this room, on that bed.

“What the shit have you been doing?” Malik asked in horror. “The chains are melted. Actually melted. There’s just a hunk of metal back here. No clasp left. What did you do?”

“I have done nothing to the chains.”

“Not to the chains, to whoever put you in them!” Malik groaned. “They took them off of me when I was here. They’ve just hunkered you down. I don’t think I can do anything about this.”

“How did you get here?” Amna asked, unconcerned.

“It requires two hands.”

“Swimming requires no such thing. How far out are we? See if you can’t unhook the leash that keeps me in here. I can meet you on whatever ship you came out on.”

“It’s a rowboat, Mom,” Malik muttered. He heard Amna say something under her breath, but decided to ignore her, in case she made him angry enough to walk out the door. He had a lot of things he wanted to say to Eleanor all of a sudden. “It’s melted here, too. I’m going to need bolt cutters or something. I know where they keep the tools on here. I’ll go—”

The door opened before Malik could reach it, and Eleanor walked in backwards with a plate of food in her hands.

“What’s the worst that could happen, Livia? It’s Pickett. She won’t let anything happen to Nottie. Give the girl a little space. You’ll be surprised.” 

Eleanor let the door fall shut on whatever Livia shouted back. She did not sound happy about whatever it was. Eleanor, however, merely shook her head with a slight smile before turning.

“Apologies, we did not forget…” 

Even if Malik had put in the effort, there was nowhere in the stripped-down captain quarters to hide. So Eleanor had looked up to see him gawking dumbfounded at her, while his mother, still quite chained, glared fiercely at him. Malik did not appear to notice. 

“Well I can’t say I was expecting this.”

“Hello, Eleanor,” Malik replied. His voice was so quiet and breathy that his mother put a hand to her forehead.

“I see you’ve kept up that training regimen after all, Pretty Boy. My congratulations and condolences.”

“If the two of you would kindly not flirt in my presence,” Amna muttered.

“The crew would enjoy seeing you, I expect,” Eleanor said almost over her. “Come up for a bit and we can chit-chat?”

Amna shot a furious look Eleanor’s way, but quickly had to shift it to Malik as he said, “I’d like that” without her consent.

“Lovely,” Eleanor replied, holding out a plate of food that looked much better than anything Malik remembered eating during his stay aboard.. “Hand this over, would you. I want to keep all my fingers functional today.”

“Don’t suppose you have any bolt-cutters on board, do you?” Malik asked, taking the plate and dropping it next to Amna on the bed without so much as a glance to what he was doing.

“Hmm, tough call. I’d have to ask Junior. Nothing official, but he might be able to make something work. Stay with us and you get a free ride to Kingston, though. Just got word that we’re heading back around.”

“I do have a rowboat tied to your starboard side,” Malik told her. Amna looked to the ceiling, swearing under her breath.

“Won’t have one there for long with these waves. I’ll have Rini and Wes pull it up. It will be ready for you on the stern when you need it.”

“I’m afraid it belongs to the Portown docks.”

“Stealing?” Eleanor asked, wickedness in her crooked smile.

“Renting,” he replied. “With money.”

Eleanor rolled her eyes. 

“Can’t spare anyone to row it back. You’ll either have to leave it on board or trust me to spell it back to shore for you. Might be a little off unless you remember the dock number.”

“Twenty-eight,” Malik replied at once. Eleanor’s smile widened.

“Consider it done.”

She held out her arm, and despite Amna’s whispered “Malik don’t you dare!” Malik took it and allowed Eleanor to lead him up to the deck, locking Amna alone in her room once more.

The crew was, indeed, highly pleased to see Malik on board. Livia rubbed his shoulder affectionately, while Fritz clapped hands with him, and Wes mussed his hair. Rini fully jumped onto his back where she asked what took him so long to visit and if he had come to relieve them of his horrible mother.

“You know she bit me something awful when she first came on!”

“You would have bitten her, too, if you’d been the one tied up,” Malik pointed out. Rini was so shocked, having not thought of this herself, that she dropped her hold and fell to the deck behind him.

“I’m assumin’ you want cutters because you can’t undo Eleanor’s and my Mum’s work on those chains?” Junior asked. 

“That’s the gist, I’m afraid,” replied Malik.

“Dunno if we have anything strong enough for them. Aunt Pickett would, but I doubt we could get them from her. Afraid she and your mum had a little tiff earlier.”

“I’ve gathered,” Malik said. 

“If you’d like, we can kidnap you, too, so’s you don’t have to tell her we got no way of gettin’ her loose.”

“Kind offer, but I’ll pass,” Malik told him. “I’m not afraid of her most days. Keep me useful while I’m on board, though, cooking, cleaning, I understand rigging a little more, now.”

“Planning to stay a while?” asked Junior innocently.

“Haven’t made plans yet,” Malik answered, trying not to think about Eleanor watching at his shoulder. 

“Tell me you’re at least helping with the new whiskey and cider tonight. Can’t let Fritz and Wes drink it all again.”

“I suppose I can plan that far in advance,” Malik agreed. 

An offer was extended even to Amna to join the festivities, but she refused once again. Malik pointed out that it could show her how the chains worked.

“They work by magic,” Amna returned sourly, “which, as you can see, I am incapable of practicing at this moment. I would prefer continued solitude to revels that pit me against my home.”

“Suit yourself,” said Malik, “but the fresh air might be good for you.”

“The window is open.”

Eleanor, who was unsurprised by this response, shrugged and offered Malik a very large helping of whiskey.

The evening was every bit as lovely as Malik had remembered them being — more so, really, now that the weather was warmer. Rini and Livia pulled out their instruments again, and Fritz added new details to his songs that Malik couldn’t help but notice as Fritz answered a call and response that probably used to make him blush.

“Thought I got ‘im, but he got me, stole my heart out to the sea. Took my shoes and took my shirt, and my virginity!”

“How was his hair?”

“Curly-black!”

“How were his lips?”

“Wet and smack!”

“How were his eyes?”

“Starry-starred!”

“And how were you?”

_“Hard, hard, hard!”_

Drink and sex were the themes of the evening, it seemed, as everyone’s voices got loud and incoherent, and tales were passed around the darkening deck of first loves and worst times. Fritz was asked to repeat a much-told tale that must have happened since Malik had been aboard of the starry-eyed dark boy who had clearly left the ship with Fritz’s heart in tow. Livia told of how she met her husband out in Portown, and was asked to describe his bedside manner in great detail. She did so with a dirty twinkling in her eyes, stopping midway to tell everyone she was very glad her daughter was not around for this. Rini told a very graphic story of a time she had convinced a man to come to sea with her, staring at Wes the whole time she did so. He made a lot of faces her way, but never interrupted.

“Your turn, Eleanor!” she passed when she finished.

“Not fair to the captain!” Wes cut in. “She’s only got the one!”

“So does Fritz and I don’t hear you defending him!” 

“Wet and sloppy and somehow not pregnant,” Eleanor shouted over their argument. “And that’s why I don’t do shit on this ship that I’d prefer to keep to myself!”

“Hear!” Livia agreed, hoisting an empty cup. She tried to drink from it before realizing there was nothing to be had. “That’ll be my cut-off. Don’t wake me in the morning if you like having all your teeth.”

“Say, Eleanor?” Rini called, her arm around Wes’ shoulders. “You still got… you know?”

Malik couldn’t see what she tossed Rini’s way, but heard a jingling when Rini caught the thing.

“You’re too gracious, what with the Pretty Boy here and all.”

“Be loud in there next to Mistress Zampieri and they’re your consequences to face, all I’m saying,” Eleanor retorted. Rini, unfazed, stumbled away with Wes down below deck. As the circle started to disperse, Malik walked to the very edge of the prow and stared up at the sky.

“Starry-eyed is just supposed to be an expression,” Eleanor quipped at his shoulder.

“Can you blame me?” Malik replied, looking down to her. “I’ve missed this.”

“Can’t be on the water half a day without falling in love, can you?” she chuckled.

“In six months away, I never fell out of love.”

Her gentle laugh faded into a contented hum, and she joined him in counting the stars for a quiet minute.

“How drunk are you?”

“Decidedly tipsy,” Malik replied.

“Could you climb?”

Malik thought for a moment, testing his grip on the railing to be certain.

“Should be safe.”

She led him to the mast with light fingers on his wrist. He followed up the ladder there, choosing to believe that she wouldn’t mind if he peeked up her tunic just a little, every few steps. He couldn’t see well anyway. Eleanor helped him over the rail into the nest that rested high within the sails. As soon as their feet were steady, Eleanor tugged Malik’s face down to hers. Her kiss was returned very readily. 

Most of their clothes went into a satchel that was purportedly for tools, tied permanently to the nest’s safety rail, but they knelt on Malik’s shirt and left their feet covered to protect themselves from the winds high over the sea. No angle was comfortable in such a tight squeeze, and the best they got was Malik pressing Eleanor up against the mast while her legs were around his bare waist. She giggled when he spilled, refusing to let him go while she rubbed between her legs. He was hard again before she was done. That time, he took her with him, reveling in the squeak she gave when the wave broke. Among the clouds, he gathered her into his arms before she had the coherency to resist, and told her again that he was in love with her.

“This after you admit you’re tipsy,” Eleanor chided.

“And your crew let slip that you’ve never slept with anyone else,” Malik returned. “Or did they not mean me?”

“They meant you,” she reassured him. “Don’t read too much into it.”

“No, no, I’m grateful. That only means you don’t have anyone better to compare me to yet.”

She drifted off in his lap, wrapped in his arms. When they started to shiver in the night, Malik pulled his shirt over her shoulders and held her more tightly against his chest. He woke to her touch, hours later, prodding him to watch the sunrise with her. Beautiful though the light was, dancing on the waves, it couldn’t compare to the sparkle in Eleanor’s hair and eyes, so Malik found himself mostly watching her instead. He helped her dress when the sun had fully risen out of the sea, and replaced his pants. His shirt, something of a mess, he left off, tying the sleeves around his waist so that he could get it to the laundry pile. 

“Would it be alright if I wrote my father?” Malik asked once they were back on deck. “No locations, just letting him know that Mom and I are together and safe?”

“Let me proof it, and I don’t see a problem with that,” Eleanor replied. 

It was sent in Malik’s own indigo magic under Eleanor’s watch before breakfast was ready. 

“A lovely color,” she commented. “I’ve always had a preference for blue, as you can likely understand. The darker colors provide a subtlety I’ve never been able to match.”

“Maybe it’s the best I could do to match my inspiration,” Malik joked.

Eleanor rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed and she had to walk away without retort.

The crew was slow to rise that morning. Fritz got to take the helm, a great rarity, as he had the clearest eyes and smallest headache. Eleanor stopped an arm-wrestling contest between Livia and Wes over who would take breakfast to Amna by pointing out that Malik could do it. 

“That’s the most useful thing you’ve done yet,” Wes sighed in relief. Livia laid her head on crossed arms beside a half-finished plate, and was snoring gently again two minutes later.

Amna Zampieri was by a far margin the most awake person on board. She was also in the foulest mood.

“Are you able to comfortably eat like that?” Malik asked, indicating her wrists.

“Are you able to keep it in your pants on this ship?” she returned.

“‘No’ would have sufficed.” He sat beside her on the bed. “Would you like help?”

Amna ignored him.

“I wrote Dad, let him know we’re safe and together,” Malik continued. “I don’t know the return address for here, but Eleanor said we should be to Kingston in about eight days. Less, if the Randolphs get word about Devraj.”

Still Amna said nothing, though Malik noticed her eyes narrow at the mention of Kingston.

“Can I get you anything?”

“Bolt cutters,” Amna snapped.

“I asked. Not on this ship. If I get the chance, I’ll hop over to the one we’re following and ask there.”

“You’ll ask?” groaned Amna. “You intend to ask pirates to borrow a tool that will free their captive. Malik—”

“And how do you expect me to steal from them?” Malik countered. “If I fight or try to betray them, I’ll end up like you or worse. There is no harm in asking.”

Frowning, Amna fell silent once again.

“They aren’t so bad, are they?” Malik asked her in a low voice.

“I have been drugged and stolen from my home. I have been locked in chains, stripped of dignity and independence for a week. If anything, they are worse.”

“If you hadn’t fought—”

“Who wouldn’t fight such treatment?” Amna overrode him. “You cannot expect me to submit to cruelty peaceably.”

“Have you not heard their offers to spare the treatment?” Malik protested. “Be furious with those who initiated this all you like, but focus your fighting. When offered gentility and grace, consider it instead of lashing out at those who approach with their hands outstretched.”

“Tell me, how am I supposed to trust anything they offer?”

“You trust that the food isn’t poisoned, don’t you?” Malik said.

“Of course not,” Amna replied. “But there I have fewer options.”

They sat in uncomfortable silence for over a minute, Malik trying to come up with something to say while avoiding his mother’s eyes.

“You really love her? Even after everything she’s done?”

“She’s protected her crew from those who would hurt them,” Malik said. “She works hard and takes the brunt of the effort on herself to protect others. She plays fair when others play fair with her. She gives second chances. She frees slaves. What’s not to love?”

“Frees slaves?” Amna asked. 

“I’ve seen it myself. Norste ships with children and casters for sale. They took the people out without a fight and dropped them at ports, finding work and housing for them where they could support themselves. I’d guess it’s how they found Devraj.”

“He was taken from the Kingston docks, on a day that this ship was seen leaving port,” Amna muttered.

“Then why did it take almost two weeks for the Randolphs to come forward for bargaining?” he returned. “Their operation is to send word as soon as they have a captive. They ask for ransom quietly, and use publicity as a bargaining chip.”

“You were missing for—”

“I did not give them my name,” Malik answered before Amna could finish her protest. “They didn’t know, so they couldn’t ask. The bargain was struck before this crew knew who I was.”

Silence slipped between them again, Amna avoiding Malik’s gaze this time.

“Do you really want to spend another week like this?”

“Of course not,” she spat.

“You could be on deck, free to move. The stars are spectacular at night.”

“They will never trust me now.”

“Trust can come in stages,” Malik said. “They probably won’t let you out of the caster collar, sure, but they’ll let you walk around and use your hands.”

“You have no proof—“

“They took the gag off even though I hear you drew blood through it.”

“Will I never hear the end of that?” Amna moaned.

“Rini was very impressed, I think,” Malik told her. “She appreciated the technique. Don’t let her get near your shoulder, though. She might be itching to return the favor.”  
  


* * *

  
It was dinner before Malik managed to talk everyone into the attempt. The crew gave Amna a very wide berth when she stepped out, her legs wobbling on unsteady wood that she had been given no opportunity to accustom herself to in the preceding week. Eleanor, of course, had not needed cutters to break the chain, instead using a rune to break open the cuff around Amna’s ankle. 

“It can be mended,” Eleanor warned. “I ask only that you treat my crew with the general respect you might allow your average merchant. And please don’t jump over. We’re over a day’s swim out from shore and I have enough threats on my neck without Pickett adding another.”

Eleanor left Amna’s wrists bound, and asked Malik and Fritz to help her wherever necessary. Fritz, when he could, let Malik stand between him and his charge, who he could only watch out of the corner of his eye. In truth, the entire ship was watching her in this manner. This did not seem to bother Amna, who kept to herself on the stern, letting her legs adjust.

“It does still smell of fish,” she admitted to Malik, many hours later.

“Just wait until they ask you to help peel potatoes,” he laughed.

There was no party that night, as the whiskey was low again and the crew tired, but quiet songs bounced around the sails anyway, canons and calls while everyone got ready for the night shifts. Malik stood with Amna on the stern, pointing out the constellations that he had been shown months before.

“Do you understand?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “And I never will. But I can learn to accept that.”

They joined Eleanor at the helm a little while later, where she was taking first shift for the evening. Amna watched with narrowed eyes as the captain let Malik steer her ship, with just a gentle touch to his hand to keep it steady. 

“You two take the private quarters again tonight,” she offered when Livia came to relieve her. “With your leave, I will lock the door again, but as much to keep Rini out as to keep you in.”

Amna said nothing, so Malik granted this request for them both.

Alone at night, Malik brushed and braided his mother’s hair for her, tying the strands back out of her face for the first time in a week. When he finished, he saw her blinking more than usual.

“Not as bad as it could be, yeah?” he asked gently.

Amna did not answer, laying down and facing away from him.

“We’ll be home soon.”

Before he fell asleep on the floor beside her, he heard her sniffing into the pillow. Malik pretended to snore, and a moment later was certain that he heard his father’s name.  
  


* * *

  
While the Ocean’s Peak circled Libanira, Malik dragged his mother all over the ship. He pulled her along while he helped with the cooking, kept her at his side when he scrubbed down tables, even pulled up a chair for her when he scrub at the laundry, his own clothes included. Fritz got quiet word to him when Kite Randolph was arriving with supplies, and Malik assisted the whole crew by engaging both his mother and Livia Thompson in political argument in the kitchen while supplies were quietly loaded onto the deck. Neither Amna nor Kite knew that they stood freely within ten yards of each other until the danger had passed. Amna’s ensuing silence announced her fury.

The fury was sated when the supplies included more alcohol and pies.

That evening, three drinks in, Malik was shocked to learn that his mother knew several of the songs the pirates sang to each other.

“I have heard them enough times,” she insisted.

“We ain’t sung that in a month at least,” Wes whispered to him. “It’s location-specific.”

“Location of the best sex you’ve ever had!” Rini announced to everyone in earshot. “Mine’s in a closet on Brick Randolph’s old ship while docked in Evina gettin’ searched! Go!”

“Harnessed on the starboard side of this ship,” Wes answered.

“Roof of the Portown dock markets,” said Livia, blushing in fondness.

“Ten feet away,” Fritz called to whoops and cheers.

“In a fucking bed,” Eleanor shouted when Rini wouldn’t stop pointing at her. Rini pointed to Malik next.

“Beside that fucking bed,” he said. Eleanor choked on her drink beside him. 

Rini continued around the deck without care, staring people down and calling them out by name when they initially refused her invitation. “In a rowboat”, “Underbelly of The Advisor”, “In my fate-forsaken dreams.”

“Kingston Palace.”

Malik was not the only person to choke at the sound of his mother’s voice. Rini’s jaw dropped, as she had not expected Amna to answer, especially without further prodding. In the nervous laughs and whispers, Malik turned to his mother to stare.

“Don’t give me that look,” she told him. “It was with your father.”

Eleanor removed her wrist cuffs as a reward for her good humor.

Once able to move, Amna proved more helpful than the crew would have believed. She wasn’t afraid to get her gloves dirty, as it were, and was strong enough to hoist the back sails on her own. Where Malik could manage prep work and scrambles, Amna created recipes from unusual combinations of whatever was lying around. Within a day, Junior was taking notes at her side. 

“Vying to be my new first mate?” Eleanor asked at breakfast the next morning, over eggs that had been whipped in the center with black pepper sprinkled on top.

“Regaining the admiration of my son before you steal him entirely,” Amna answered.

“You’ll catch my entire crew if you keep throwing your net this wide.”

“A pleasing side effect,” Amna replied, though there was a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Nothing more.”  
  


* * *

  
They were only one more day out when a boat going the opposite direction caught Fritz’s eye. He pointed it out to Eleanor and the others with skepticism.

“The sails are yellow, but I’ve never seen it before. Is it one of ours?”

“I don’t think so,” Livia replied.

“No,” agreed Junior. “The wood is too dark. Never grew up with a ship that color. That’s Norste.”

“Don’t tell me Norstoan is trying to be clever,” Wes grumbled. 

“I want to know why they are mimicking us instead of Ampany’s own ships,” Eleanor murmured. “Why do they think we’re the bigger threat?”

“Why do you think Pickett let it pass?” Fritz asked.

Eleanor checked her desk and found a letter there from the ship ahead, relaying that they could do whatever they liked with the imposter ship, so long as it didn’t put them off schedule. The prince aboard Pickett’s own ship had dissuaded her from direct confrontation.

“Thank goodness,” Livia whispered.

“I want to hit it,” said Rini. “They’re trying too hard. They’ve got something big.”

“We can’t follow, though. And we’re too close to change the sails,” replied Junior.

Frowning, Eleanor made a decision without discussion. She stripped her tunic, shoes, and spats on the deck.

“Toss me your shirt, Fritz,” she said. “If I’m not back in two hours, Livia’s in charge. Do not follow me. Keep after Pickett. I can get back from a longer distance than any of you. Keep to the route. Get Malik to keep his mother downstairs and out of the barracks.”

“I’ll go, too,” Rini offered.

“Not a chance. I need someone who can take a hit and keep swinging on board, in case this is a setup.” She rolled the sleeves of Fritz’s shirt as high as they would go, and tied them strips of rag. “Wes, you’re on helm. Junior, stay in the barracks. Fritz, scout, and put my tunic on. Keep the ship quiet. If Mistress Zampieri causes trouble, let Pretty Boy know my life is on the line. That should keep everyone calm.”

“You have a funny definition of calm today,” Rini sniffed. 

Eleanor ignored her, and dove over the stern-side rail.  
  


* * *

  
The Zampieris aboard did not learn anything was amiss for an hour afterward, when they brought food up to an unusually quiet deck. Amna spotted the distant ship almost at once.

“That is not the one we are following?” she asked Livia, her tone indicating that she knew the answer already.

“It’s not one of ours,” was the response.

“We have not noticed such a thing before,” Amna said, “but we would not have known to look for it.”

“What’s the plan?” Malik asked.

“We stick to course,” Livia told him. “Eleanor’s scouting.”

Malik trusted that, seeing from a distance the blue tunic and light hair in the nest. It wasn’t for another half hour, when he took up lunch and found Fritz that he realized what Livia had meant. It took her, Rini, and his mother to keep Malik from jumping after her. Amna had to wrangle her son back down to the captain’s quarters, where she shut them both inside.  
  


* * *

  
Even with the aid of magic, the swim took longer than Eleanor had thought it would. The sun was getting too low for comfort, as her magic was best practiced in the early morning where the sparkling of dawn could hide it. Evening had a different glow. She clung to the first iron hold she could find to lay the distraction rune on her shirt, then swam around to a ladder underneath a porthole.

It took her four tries to find the hold she wanted, and she had to replace her rune twice from seawater and time. She broke the lock on the porthole easily, but couldn’t quite squeeze through. Her swearing caught the attention of a little boy near to her.

“Mama?”

“Nope,” Eleanor told him. “Can you see me?”

He nodded.

“The guards been by lately?”

The boy shook his head, red curls bouncing.

“You got magic?”

“No, but they do.”

“Where are you from?” she asked.

“Evina,” he replied. “We’re all from Evina.”

“Who are you talking to, Henry?” asked a quiet male voice.

“Mama,” the boy said. “Only she says she isn’t Mama.”

Swearing again, Eleanor rubbed the rune from her shirt collar. 

“Quiet! Quiet,” she hissed as a room full of people began to gasp at the sight of a soaking woman half in the window. “How many of you are there?”

“Thirty-two,” the man said, his eyes very wide.

“Can you move to where I can see you? As many as possible, come on.”

“Who—?”

“I will explain that when we are all in safety. Please, move.”

They could not go far, and the casting distance slowed her greatly. She sent them four at a time, the children first, then those who might have been parents and siblings, with a sparkling rune that sent them to her barracks with their chains unbroken behind them. The last group was just twinkling out of sight when their captors came bearing a steaming pot of dinner.

“Wha— Portside intruder! We have a pirate! Intruder!”

Eleanor pushed away with her feet, not caring about the distance, and plummeted back into the waves. It wasn’t how she preferred to do things, particularly with the Peak still sailing in the opposite direction, but if she kept to the blinding light where the sun had touched the horizon, then the glitter on her toes would get her out of range before they could find her.  
  


* * *

  
Junior, Livia, and Fritz had just gotten all the names of their latest refugees when Rini came down with the news. Eleanor hadn’t returned yet, and the imposter ship was turning around.

“We have to speed,” Junior said.

“We can’t without Eleanor!” Fritz cried. “Not to mention we’ll lead them straight into Pickett!”

“She can take a ship of that size,” replied Junior.

“But she won’t,” Livia realized aloud, her face pale. “Not with the prince aboard. She won’t engage. Junior, take over the helm. Rini, get Wes to the stern. We need to block them.”

“Waves like that could drown her out there!” Rini protested.

“We have no choice!”  
  


* * *

  
Malik and Amna looked up from the argument they were still having when the ship around them lurched unexpectedly forward. As one, they raced to the window and threw it open. Amna saw the waves and rotated ship behind them, and her blood boiled with undirected rage.

Malik, on the other hand, saw the woman desperately trying to cling to the bottom rung of the starboard ladder, and jumped out the window before his mother could stop him. He scampered across and down the ladder until he was even with Eleanor. Her hands were slick with blood and water, and her grip weakened with fatigue. Malik urged her to cling to his back, and got her up to the window, where Amna pulled them both through.

“Unsuccessful, I take it?” she hissed.

“Shit I hope not,” Eleanor panted. “Malik, see if you can help them in the barracks, please. I need several minutes before I can… shit.”

The ship lurched again, as Malik wrenched the door open and scampered across the hall. Eleanor, seasick for the first time in years, staggered to the window and vomited saltwater back to where it had come from. She didn’t have the energy to stop Amna from following her son across the hall. Spitting the last of the taste in her mouth to the sea, she turned around unsteadily just in time to see Amna’s return.

“Let me cast.”

“Precisely how much of a death wish do you think I have?” Eleanor replied.

“If I wished to kill you I could shove you out that window,” snapped Amna in return. “Let me cast.”

“You ask a lot for someone who has given very little trust.”

“You have thirty-two of my citizens aboard your ship and are losing ground. You do not have time to argue.” Amna turned around and bent her head forward, revealing the mangled clasp at her neck. “Let me cast.”

The urge to vomit rising in her throat again, Eleanor cut the leather collar with a swipe of her fingers. She had to lean out the window once more while Amna stripped the gloves from her arms. 

“Shit I forgot how terrible the sea tastes,” Eleanor muttered. “What’s your plan, Mistress?”

The skin on Amna’s arms was reddened and raw, but a purple glow emanated from her hands, wrapping her wounds in shadow. She did not answer before running to the deck. Cursing and stumbling, Eleanor followed her as fast as she could go. Livia, Wes, and Rini were all on the stern, pushing the waves along under the Peak and into their pursuant. Junior held the wheel steady with straining arms, while Fritz shouted the surroundings to him.

“Pickett’s in sight ahead. If we catch them up, we’re in trouble.”

“Swing straight for Kingston,” Amna called. “Who knows how to turn the sails blue?”

“Too busy for illusions, Mistress,” Rini shouted. “And they’ve spotted us, if you couldn’t tell. Ain’t foolin’ no one now!”

“It isn’t the ship you’re fooling.”

“Do as she says!” Eleanor said with all the voice she had, laying magic on her own hands while she leaned against the helm deck for support.

“Captain! Thank fuck.”

“Do as she says!” Eleanor repeated. “Wes, leave the driving to the girls. Help Fritz get the sails up. They’re slowing us down. I’ll get them the right color. Junior, hard left to the docks.”

Amna took his spot on the stern and gathered shadow in her hands.

“Uh, Eleanor?” Rini called over her shoulder.

“I know,” Eleanor replied immediately. “Tell me if you have a better idea!”  
  


* * *

  
From the nest of the Silver Striker, Pickett Randolph’s scout observed a confusing and distressing turn of events.

“The Peak’s under chase!” Nottie called down, “They’re catching us up, even in the hour if they keep pace. Imposter’s on their tail!”

“What the shit, Eleanor,” Pickett muttered to herself. “Change the sails! Quickly! Nottie, reports every three minutes! I want to know every movement. Stay on the water. Do not dock. I repeat, do not dock!”

Blue sails were hoisted into place one at a time to minimize lost speed, and they’d only just gotten everything into place by the time Nottie had a change in status.

“The Peak’s turning to port!” she shouted. “They’re drawing the imposter away!”

“Stay on course!” Pickett told her crew. “I’m going to write a scathing letter, which hopefully Eleanor will be alive to read tomorrow.”

Even once the ships behind them were completely turned away, Nottie couldn’t take her eyes off the Peak, sailing directly into the sun and southern Kingston docks. Ten minutes later, she was joined by a very winded prince. Dev said nothing, standing beside her high in the sails, but watched the ships with a look of desperation on his face that Nottie knew matched her own.  
  


* * *

  
The rising waves at the Kingston docks did not go unnoticed by the harbormaster, who saw an Ampanian ship fighting the water at the south end, with a large pirate vessel close on their tail. He called for the commander and city guard at once, who got there right as the pirate ship began to engage, about half a mile out from port.   
Commander Nehemiah Zampieri narrowed his eyes and, to his guards’ surprise, told them to hold their ground.

“I’ve seen this tactic before.”  
  


* * *

  
“Okay! We’ve let them catch us!” shouted Rini, her pitch on the verge of hysteria. “What’s the next part?”

Amna’s trap slipped from her fingers not like cannon fire, but as a gentle breeze. Eleanor yanked Livia back from watching the shadow skirt across the water, and thrust a sparkling wall of ice between the ships while she still could.

Violet strands crept into the enemy’s every window, leaving burns black as ash in their paths. It took less than a second, and then the heat of fire and magic seared the skin of everyone on deck. Eleanor’s barrier kept them safe from the burning bits of wood that splintered their way, and caught the majority of the sparks that sprayed like fireworks over the sea. The rest Fritz pointed out from his place on the mast. The sails, tucked away to assist their escape, thankfully suffered little damage.

“Huh,” Rini breathed. “That’s what that looks like from the victory side.”

“You have survived the other side?” Amna asked in surprise.

“Both times you’ve done that before,” Rini told her. “So please don’t make it three for me. I’ve had enough.”

“I wasn’t aware anyone had survived the second time,” said Amna, a hint of something that might have been regret in her tone.

“We wouldn’t have,” Rini scoffed, “if I hadn’t recognized your magic on the water coming at us. When I say abandon ship, people abandon that ship. I have a sort of bad history of going down with them. Eleanor had lilac sails at the time and fished us out before you could find us.”

“You’re giving away my secrets again, Rini,” Eleanor chided. “Make yourself useful and get the rescues to deck.”

“Go below yourself,” Amna said. “Send Malik up, and someone you trust. Stay out of sight on this stop.”

“Junior, stay at helm, please,” Eleanor called, her gaze focused on Amna. “Livia, stay with him. Fritz, remain at post. Everyone else to the barracks. Here we go again.”  
There was, as Eleanor had suspected, a curse-filled letter on her desk in sharp, neat handwriting. She didn’t bother reading it closely for the moment, having no response ready yet. She was hardly in the barracks more than a minute before she was lifted off her feet in an eager hug from Malik.

“Your hands, are they—?”

“Your mother wants you up top,” Eleanor told him at once. “I’m fine. Been through worse than that, and I will be again. Your concern is appreciated.”

“Eleanor—”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she interrupted again. “Shoo, before your mother comes down to find you. And take this lot with you. We’ll be docked at Kingston in twenty minutes. If I’m not mistaken, your father’s waiting to greet us.”

Malik had no choice but to lead the refugees up, past the pirates that clapped their shoulders and wished them luck. The last to pass by Eleanor’s desk at the door was the little red-headed boy with the quiet-voiced man who was probably his father.

“Bye, Mama,” the boy said, waving to Eleanor.

“My apologies, miss,” the man told her, picking up his son. “You do look astonishingly like my wife. Thank you for helping us.”

“I don’t abide turning people to commodities,” Eleanor replied evenly. “Try not to let it happen again.”

“I will do my best,” he said. On the deck, a fellow leaned his way and whispered, “You mean to tell me that really wasn’t your Patricia?”

“No,” the man, Andrew, said. “She could have fooled me but for the magic. Patricia was border-born. Can’t cast a spark. It spared her life where it took her sister’s.”

The ship arrived at the dock in precisely the predicted twenty minutes. Amna and Malik, unchained and fully healed, stood at its prow with the rescued citizens behind them. Though Nehemiah waited on land for his family to disembark, he did so with his toes pressed up against the dock edge, watching them with unabashed joy on his face. In a rare moment of public affection, Amna took his offered arm when she reached his side.

“This ship was attacked leaving Evina,” she announced. “Malik and I were able to cross from the pirate’s ship when we got close enough, and I dismantled it behind us, as I’m sure you could all see. Please see that these citizens are safely returned home. Those who chose to remain aboard can steer it safely back to its proper port for a second attempt at voyage.”

“Prince Devraj?” Nehemiah asked her quietly.

“Was not aboard with us at any time that I was aware,” Amna told him. He nodded, exhaling his relief.

“I would like to request leave to travel with the ship,” said Malik, loud enough that his mother couldn’t pretend she didn’t hear. The face she made was neither conscious nor pleasant.

“They can travel safely,” Nehemiah replied with a furrowed brow.

“I’m hoping this attack may flush out where they are keeping the prince,” Malik continued over his mother’s heavy sigh. “Keeping this ship safe will be of the utmost importance in our bargaining, because vengeance will surely be sought.”

Nehemiah watched a contest of wills unfold between his son and wife, which had a curious and complete lack of eye contact on the part of both participants. When the silence became awkward, he urged them on with, “By your mother’s leave.”

The way that Amna’s hands spread then tensed could not really be read as consent, but Malik took it as so, saluting them both and hurrying back up the dock without another word.

“Send out a boat to search the wreckage for survivors and bring them to the courthouse. Spare them no clothes. With the stars on our side, their humility will come out in the wash,” Nehemiah ordered. As the guards hustled to obey, the Zampieris linked arms and turned away to the shore. “A whole week and you couldn’t convince him to stay?” Nehemiah whispered when he was certain of confidentiality.

“It was all I could do to keep him from jumping in the water after her,” Amna groaned. “And I only managed that once out of two attempts. He would need constant supervision in the house. I do not wish to pay for it.”

“He has the house rune and magic to write now,” Nehemiah pointed out. “It will not be as hard as before.”

“Why do you think I came close to agreeing to such madness? I learned the ship’s rune as well. He will not leave us so far behind.”

“You do not seem concerned that a pirate ship is walking free,” Nehemiah remarked.

“I owe that ship thirty-two lives,” Amna said. “Well, ten now. Once you’ve discounted the number of regular crew, myself, Malik, and the prince. It will be a fair enough trade for the time being.”

“What about Prince Devraj?”

“He was on that ship at some point, but I cannot prove when,” answered Amna. “I know because one of the little pirate boys is in love with him.”  
  


* * *

  
It was Malik who went down to the galley to give the all-clear when they had left sight of the Kingston docks. Eleanor went up to see for herself before letting the illusion fall from her sails. The crew unfurled them at once, then climbed up with rags and needles, ready to repair whatever damage the sparks from an exploding Norste ship had caused.

“I want everyone to stay topside,” Eleanor announced. “I’m going to scout for stowaways. Wes, check the ship edges. Don’t be afraid to spark anyone clinging to the side. Don’t throw them over if they’re on, though. Tie them up and leave them for me.”

None were found, inside or outside of the ship, and Rini voiced the lingering suspicion that even bodies might not be left after such an explosion, let alone lives. The rest of the crew didn’t answer her. It took them until almost dawn to catch up to Pickett, where they pulled even with the Striker, and sent Eleanor across for her scolding. She let Fritz come along, just in case she found a use for him. 

“Would you like to explain what you were thinking back there?” Pickett snapped, loud enough to be heard on both decks by a careful ear.

“I don’t stand for slavery,” Eleanor replied.

“That’s no reason to engage with a foreign ship.”

“I did not do the engaging. It was done with me,” Eleanor explained. “Thirty-two lives were saved.”

“And how many lost?” Pickett replied.

“Only those of the slavers chasing us,” said Eleanor coolly. “It is not how I would have chosen to do things, but there was little option left for me. I can guarantee that the other holds were empty, as I checked them all before finding those, and the number of taken agreed with the number present. I got them all to the Peak before I was caught, and swam back. I was alone. I did not alert the guards aboard. You tell me what I should have done differently.”

Though Pickett was clearly not pacified, she had no answer for this and was forced to change the subject.

“What of Amna Zampieri?”

“She is ashore,” Eleanor admitted. “But let us go freely, and aided in the final deception. And I’ve officially stolen her son. She’s letting him stay, apparently.”

Pickett’s eyebrows raised high, and she was once again left without response. 

“Did she learn the location of Prince Devraj?”

“I never let slip,” Eleanor said, shrugging. “Can’t speak for anyone else.”

Through her muttered swears, Pickett heaved a frustrated sigh.

“Best get him back on the Peak then. Stay out of sight and don’t attack any more warships while you have precious personnel aboard, agreed?”

The prince had to be located in order to be transferred. It took almost ten minutes to locate him. Nottie Thompson was the one who found him, pressed into a closet with a shirtless Fritz who was breathless, blushing, and beaming like the sun.  
  


* * *

  
Prince Devraj had indeed learned a fair amount of helpfulness while aboard the Striker. Eleanor assigned him to Livia’s care, partly so Fritz would continue to work, and partly because Dev’s stories of Nottie on Pickett’s ship eased Livia’s fears of her daughter sailing the seas. They stayed in the Neutral Seas for another two days while Brick continued trying to bargain for a hefty enough sum to cover what the prince had cost them, and to get the Crown’s attention for the growing problem of slavers in their waters.

“I’ll bring back the stories when I go,” Dev tried to assure them. “I will make them known.”

“S’not that easy, Princeling,” Rini sighed. “If that’s all it took, Mistress Zampieri could bring down her hammer. Maybe if you work with her something can be done, but we’re gonna be first line of your defense until we die.”

“So what you get for me is sort of like wages?” Dev asked.

“I suppose, if wages are sort of like extortion.”

“You could make that argument,” replied Dev, laughing.

The first night, they got the prince rip-roaring drunk on what was left of the cider on board. No one fought Fritz for the private quarters that night, nor did anyone look for Eleanor and her Pretty Boy after sundown. The second night, when good alcohol had become scarcer, they sang on deck, teaching Dev the dirty songs he wouldn’t learn on the Striker. Pickett, when drunk, would sing a good shanty, but never about the same genitals that made the prince grin. 

Though Rini and Wes got the private suite then, Fritz took Dev up to the nest, where they put their clothes in the satchel and kissed till dawn. 

The morning after that blissful night, word came through to send Dev home.

“We can drop him safely in Evina,” Eleanor said. “It will be on our way.”

“I know a rune home,” admitted Dev, blushing dark.

“Can you draw it for us?” asked Livia kindly. “Eleanor does transit very smoothly.”

“I remember,” Dev said. “But I can do it myself.”

“You cast?” Eleanor sputtered. “You haven’t had on gloves since we took you on the first time!”

“I wasn’t ready to leave,” Dev replied, shrugging. “If I could see the rune that will bring me to the barracks, I’d love to visit some time.”

Eleanor would have been quite ready to refuse on the grounds that this sort of behavior demonstrated extreme untrustworthiness, but Fritz’s hopeful expression stopped her short. She snorted his way, then said, “Fine, fine, but if you’re going to do more than spend the night, you’d better learn to be helpful out here.”  
With her leave, Fritz gave Dev a small drawing of the barracks rune. Dev, in return, gave Fritz one for the palace.

“I know you can’t use it yourself, at least not right now,” he said, “but fair’s only fair. I’ll show you my home one day, too.”

As soon as Dev had vanished in a wave of pink that took him to land, Fritz went down to the trinket pile in the corner of the barracks. Finding a locket, he stuffed the rune inside and put the chain over his head. Then he climbed up to the nest as the ship turned South, and searched for Kingston in the distant sunset, a smile from the promise resting on his chest spreading over his face.   
  



End file.
